ON
NATUEE AND GRACE.
A THEOLOGICAL TREATISE. ^M1
BOOK I.
BY
WILLIAM GEOEGE WARD, D.Pn.
LATE LECTUEER IN DOGMATIC THEOLOGY AT ST. EDMUND'S SEMINARY HERTS.
LONDON :
BURNS AKD LAMBERT, 17 PORTMAN STREET, PORTMAN SQ.
MDCCCLX.
{The ngM of Translation is reserved.}
'
LONDON:
Printed by G. BARCLAY, Castle St. Leicester Sq.
To His Eminence, Nicholas,
Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster,
My dear Lord Cardinal,
IT was you who placed me in my position at St.
Edmund's ; and you were kind enough to express
much regret, when the failure of health and other
circumstances of a private character necessitated
my abandoning it. To whom therefore can I so
suitably dedicate the first publication which re-
sults from that position ?
It might seem indeed that some apology is
needed, for venturing on this dedication, without
having first solicited your Eminence's permission.
My only reason for not asking it, has been my
iv DEDICATION.
anxiety to prevent the possibility of any one
supposing, that you are in any way responsible
for the contents of this volume. At the same
time I need hardly add, what deep gratification
it would afford me, so far as I should find you to
approve what I have written, and to approve the
fact of my writing it.
I am most glad of the present opportunity, to
give expression, and so relief, to my feelings of
gratitude, for the constant kindnesses which I
have received from your Eminence : kindnesses,
which have continued uninterruptedly to the pre-
sent time, from a period preceding by several years
my reception into the Church. My personal
obligations to you indeed, of which this very
volume reminds me, are far greater than you are
perhaps at all aware. To your kind confidence
I owe, what I have ever regarded as the chief
blessing and privilege of my external Catholic
life ; my connection with the Seminary. To you
I am hidebted for seven years, far happier than
any which I ever before spent ; and far happier
than any others are at all likely to be, on this
side the grave. To you I owe it, that during
those years I have been rescued from the dull
and wearisome routine of secular life in the world;
and allowed to bear a part, however indirect, in
DEDICATION. V
one of the very noblest works which can possibly
occupy the intellect or engage the affections, — the
training of ecclesiastical students for the fulfilment
of their high vocation.
Yet at last the personal obligations to you
under which I lie, are as nothing compared with
the obligations, resting on public grounds, which
I share in common with the whole Catholic Church
in England. I feel most deeply, that the prin-
ciples of government and administration, which
you have introduced and maintained amongst us,
are our one hope, under God, for the real and
solid promotion of Catholicism, in this our
country. That it may be God's pleasure to re-
establish you in perfect health, and to preserve
for His Church in England the inestimable benefit
of your government and counsels, — this is at the
present moment the frequent and earnest prayer
of many devoted hearts.
On these three grounds, I trust that you
will not consider me as obtrusive or inoppor-
tune, when I ask to place this volume under your
Eminence's patronage. I offer it to you, as the
first-fruits, if I may so express myself, of that
vocation to which you summoned me. I offer it,
as an inadequate expression of gratitude, for per-
sonal kindnesses which I can never forget. I offer
VI DEDICATION.
it still more earnestly, as a humble contribution on
my part to the general sum of grateful acknow-
ledgment, which is due to you from the whole
English Church.
In entering then on my most anxious theo-
logical enterprise, I entreat your Eminence's bless-
ing on myself and on my work. And I beg to
subscribe myself,
With deep respect,
Your ever affectionate and grateful Servant,
W. G. WARD.
PREFACE.
I AM hoping, if God enables me, to publish a theological
treatise on c Nature and Grace,' founded on part of my
course at St. Edmund's. In offering then to the
public this first volume of the intended work, I shall
reasonably be expected in the first place to explain,
what is that portion of Theology, which I mean to
express by the above title. I will answer this question
as briefly as I can ; for its full consideration belongs to
the second volume. In order however to answer it
at all, it is necessary to attempt some general chart or
map of theological science as a whole.
The recognised model for a scientific arrangement
of Theology, is St. Thomas's 4 Surnma.' This great
work is divided into three parts, of which the contents
are as follows : —
The 4 Pars Prima ' begins with ' de Deo/ and pro-
ceeds to 4 de Trinitate.7 So far it is one connected
whole, in the strictest sense; for the doctrine which
concerns the latter, absolutely and entirely depends on
that which concerns the former. In addition to these
fundamental doctrines, the 4 Pars Prima ' contains cer-
tain minor matters, on which we need not further
Vlli PREFACE.
dwell : such as ' de Angelis ; ' and a certain, some-
what miscellaneous, assortment of subjects, which stand
in later treatises under the general head c de Deo
Creatore.'
The ' Pars Secunda ' makes a fresh start altogether :
and resting its foundation on'the observed facts of human
nature, proceeds to consider the various constituents of
human action ; the rules of life obligatory on man ; the
nature of virtue and vice; and other matters of the same
kind : finally crowning the whole with the doctrine of
Divine Grace. It is divided into two portions, the la
2ffi, and 2a 2s6 : the former of which proceeds scientifi-
cally over the ground which I have just mentioned ;
while the latter considers various virtues and vices in
particular, with their appertaining circumstances.
The 'Pars Tertia' is on the Incarnation and the
Sacraments. Any treatment of the Incarnation must
include two things. First, it must include a treatment
of the Hypostatic Union : and this must necessarily be
based on the doctrine c de Trinitate ; ' for it is only by
mastering first that doctrine which concerns the Second
Person in Himself, that we can possibly study the
further doctrine, of His assuming human nature. The
other portion, necessarily included in any treatment of
the Incarnation, comprises all questions concerning the
human soul and body which have been thus assumed.
These questions depend on matters treated in the
' Pars Secunda.' We wish to know for instance, what
are the endowments of Christ's soul ; what Grace visits
it ; what Grace inhabits it : this presupposes the whole
doctrine of Grace in general. The doctrine of the
Incarnation then is a kind of bridge, uniting the c Pars
PREFACE. IX
Prima ' with the ' Pars Secunda.' Part of St. Thomas's
doctrine in the ' Pars Tertia ' depends on the ' Pars
Prima,' and part on the 'Pars Secunda;' but the 'Pars
Prima ' and ' Pars Secunda ' themselves are mutually
independent.
On reviewing then the -whole 'corpus' of Theo-
logy, so far as S. Thomas's ' Summa ' may be taken
as representing it,* we shall find its organic structure
to be of the following kind. Its foundation is composed
of two independent portions; and its superstructure
rests upon both. There are one or two doctrinal
matters indeed, which can hardly be considered as
integral parts of this scientific structure at all ; which can
be studied as satisfactorily, in one order as in another.
But in regard to far the greater number of doctrines,
the case is otherwise ; and it is of very considerable
importance, if we wish to master them at all thoroughly,
that we study them in their due scientific place.
* A remark has been made to me by a friend of mine, a priest, which
appears true ; though it so unconnected with our immediate subject, that
I cannot do more than most briefly allude to it.
He considers that St. Thomas's ' Summa' is incomplete, in its theological
plan, as containing no sufficient treatment of the ' De Ecclesia.' ' There are
three elements,' he observes, ' required to make a good product in concreto
from theological teaching : —
1. Scientific teaching of dogma.
2. Its ascetic correlative, i.e. the personal.
3. The life of the citizen of the Kingdom.1
St. Thomas's Theology, he proceeds in effect to say, does not include any
sufficient foundation for the latter requisite. ' Our present Theology,' he
observes, 'seems to be a stranger to any scientific handling of the two
societies, which, as St. Augustine says, dispute possession of the world ;
the Civitas Terrena and the Civitas Ccelestis.'
I think that these remarks are well founded ; and that a full treatise
'De Ecclesia,' succeeding, and based upon, the treatise 'De Incarnatione,' is
indispensable for a complete theological corpus.
X PEEFACE.
It will be asked, what I mean by this phrase,
' independent ' portions of science ; and a ready illus-
tration is at hand. Mathematics is one science, just as
Theology is ; yet in its earlier and more rudimental
teaching, it is made up of two ( independent' portions,
— Algebra and Geometry. Algebra may be studied
before Geometry, or Geometry before Algebra ; because
(as I have said) they are 'independent' portions of
science. On the other hand, in Geometry you cannot
study the fourth book of Euclid before the first ; nor
in Algebra can you study equations before addition
and subtraction. So in Theology. It is impossible to
understand the ' de Deo Trino,' till we have studied the
4de Deo Uno ;' and it is impossible to understand the
' de Gratia,' till we have studied the 4 de Actibus
Humanis.' But that portion of science on the one
hand, which contains the ' de Deo Uno et Trino;' — and
that portion, on the other hand, which contains the
' de Actibus Humanis' and ' de Gratia;' — these are
mutually independent : it is a matter of indifference,
which is studied before the other. Lastly, upon these
two independent portions is founded the doctrine of the
Incarnation, and all which follows.
That portion of Theology then, to which I give
the title ' On Nature and Grace,' is the latter of those
two independent portions above mentioned. It includes
all those revealed truths, which relate directly to each
man's moral and spiritual action or condition : all
those which concern his individual relations with God
His true End ; whether he be tending towards that
End, or moving unhappily in the opposite direction.
These truths, as will at once be manifest, are
PREFACE. XI
almost exclusively confined to the contents of S.
Thomas's 'Pars Secunda:' yet there are one or two
additional matters, which it falls within my plan to
introduce. One of these is the state of Original Justice.
How can the doctrine of Grace be understood, without
considering Original Sin ? Or how can the doctrine
of Original Sin be understood, without considering
Original Justice? The propriety of this introduction
then, is (I hope) most obvious.
There is another assemblage of truths, which I hope
to introduce from the 'Pars Prima ;' viz. those which
appertain to God's Providence and Predestination. A
moment's thought will shew, how completely these
truths are included within the description which I gave,
as to that portion of Theology which I undertake ; for
nothing can more closely concern man's individual
relations with God his True End. The doctrine of
Providence and Predestination, just as the doctrine of
Grace itself, considers, on the one hand, the effect of
God's Agency on man's free acts ; and considers, on the
other hand, the reciprocal bearing of man's free acts on
God's Counsels and Agency. The connexion between
the two is close and indissoluble.
Once more. The doctrine of Justification is most
strictly within the compass of this treatise. And yet
it is impossible fully to discuss it, unless we carefully
consider the qualities of that ' attrition,' which suffices
for an adult's justification in the sacraments of Baptism
and Penance. Thus we are led to some little encroach-
ment on the ' Pars Tertia.'
Still on the whole, this treatise, as I have said,
will not go beyond the ground covered by the 'Pars
Xli PREFACE.
Secunda.' And it will naturally divide itself into five
Books, of very unequal length; as follows : —
Book 1st. Philosophical Introduction.
Book 2d. Theological Prolegomena.
Book 3d. On Man's Moral Action.
Book 4th. On Divine Grace.
Book 5th. On God's Providence and Predestination.
The titles of the three last Books sufficiently
explain their intended contents. In the second Book,
I hope to include two different subjects. Firstly, I
hope to consider the general nature and character of
Theology; with so much, at least, of detail and ex-
plicitness, as may give us means of assigning their true
relative values, to the various * loci,' or sources, from
which our theological arguments will be derived. And
further, I hope to include in the same Book a theological
treatment (so far as such is necessary) of those various
philosophical principles, which we shall have established
in this, the first Book.
So much then, on the general contents of the Books
which are to follow. I must now refer, in somewhat
greater detail, to the contents of this first Book, which
is now presented to the public. And as it purports to
be the 'philosophical introduction' to a * theological
treatise,' it will be necessary, by way of preliminary
explanation, to say something on the relation between
Philosophy and Theology. This also is to be one of
the matters handled in the second Book; and it will
here therefore be treated with the greatest attainable
brevity.
PREFACE. Xlll
THEOLOGY and Philosophy agree with each other
in being sciences : in what do they differ ? The
answer which meets us on the surface, is of the following
kind. 4 Theology and Philosophy are mutually ex-
* elusive. Philosophy is produced, by Reason exercising
' itself on those data, which Reason itself declares ;
* Theology, by Reason exercising itself on those data,
4 which are known only by Revelation. If a truth can
' be deduced from Reason and Experience alone, it
' appertains to Philosophy ; if it can only be known
' through Revelation, to Theology/
But one single instance will sufficiently shew, that
there is some inaccuracy in this statement. All
Catholics agree in holding, as a truth which Reason
alone is able to establish, that there exists that Being,
Infinite in all Perfections, Whom we call God. From
this datum, thus given by Reason, Reason is able
readily to deduce all God's principal Attributes : His
Aseity, Simplicity, Eternity, Immensity, Immutability,
Sanctity, Omniscience, Omnipotence. It would follow
then, from the distinction above attempted between
Theology and Philosophy, that a consideration of these
Attributes is totally external to the province of Theology.
Yet it is difficult to imagine a conclusion, more opposed
to the Church's universal and continuous practice, and
more repugnant to the instinctive feeling of every
theologian, than such a statement would be. And the
very same reasoning holds, in regard to certain other
most important matters of doctrine, which shall pre-
sently be mentioned. It is necessary therefore, some-
what to revise the above statement : and a very little
consideration indeed will enable us to see its fallacy.
PREFACE.
Theology is produced by the exercise of Reason on
those truths, which the Apostles committed to the
Church's custody. This is admitted on all hands.
Now it is implied, in the distinction just now attempted
between Theology and Philosophy, that all these truths
are in such sense supernatural, that Reason by itself
would be wholly unable to establish them. But there
cannot be a greater mistake, than to suppose that all
revealed truths are of this kind : and this I now proceed
to shew.
Certainly no announcement occupied a more promi-
nent place in the apostolic teaching, than this ; that
a Divine Person, clothed in human nature, had visited
this earth ; that He had died an atoning death ; that
upon that death He had built an Universal Church.
Now it was impossible for the Apostles to teach this
doctrine, without teaching in its company the doctrine
of the Blessed Trinity ; and it was impossible for them
to teach the Trinity, unless there already existed a clear
and full apprehension of the Divine Unity. But go
where they might externally to Juda3a, the great mass
of the people had totally lost their hold of this funda-
mental Verity. The revival then, in all their purity, of
those doctrines concerning God, which Reason by it-
self is able to establish, — this was among the very first
enterprises, which it was necessary for the Apostles to
set on foot. These doctrines, as all must admit, are to
the full as integral and indispensable a part of the Apo-
stolic teaching, as are the Trinity and the Incarnation.
But again. This Person, as being the Incarnate
God, was to be The One Pattern and Exemplar of
Sanctity in the Church through every age. Will any
PREFACE. XV
one say, that the ideal of virtuousness, then prevalent in
the heathen world, approached ever so distantly to this
Divine Type? Here then was another achievement, which
it was absolutely necessary to accomplish. The prevalent
ideal of virtuousness was to be radically reformed ; the
existing notions of good and evil were to be almost
revolutionized ; in one word, the Natural Law was to
be republished. It was simply impossible, that our
Lord should be accepted as the Model of Life, unless
this other task, — republishing the Natural Law, —
were also successfully undertaken. I may add also, it
was simply impossible that the doctrines of Divine Grace
should be preached, unless the faithful were enabled to
understand, what is the nature and character of that true
and solid virtue, which Grace is to generate in their souls.
But in truth there is a reason, even deeper than either
of these two, why the republication of true moral prin-
ciples was so absolutely indispensable an element of
Christian teaching. Why did God the Son clothe
Himself in our nature and die on the Cross ? that He
might raise men to salvation hereafter, by raising them to
sanctity here. Sanctity and salvation, — here is the
very end for which Christianity was given. Cer-
tainly then it cannot contain any more more vital
or more integral doctrine, than its declaration of what
sanctity is.
There is a considerable body of Truth then, which
is in itself capable of being established by Reason ; but
which is nevertheless so primary and prominent a part
of the Christian Revelation, that no other whatever can
possibly be more so. Theology, it is true, is founded
exclusively on ' principia revelata :' I only say, that of
XVI PREFACE.
these 'principia revelata,' there are some most impor-
tant and essential, which might have been known by
Reason had there been no Revelation.* This body of
Dogma belongs as simply and absolutely to Theology,
as do the very doctrines of the Trinity or of Habitual
Grace : and yet in another very true sense, it belongs
to Philosophy also. It is desirable to give it a special
name ; and I might be tempted to call it ' Theological
Philosophy,' were it not that this term would be so
often understood in a totally different sense, as express-
ing the philosophy, or rationale, of Theology. I will
call this body of Truth, then, the ' Higher Philosophy ;'
using this term in a somewhat technical sense.
This Higher Philosophy will be found to consist of
three principal divisions: (1) the doctrines ' de Deo
Uno;' (2) the truths of Morality ; (3) various portions
of Ethical Psychology. On the two former divisions
we have already spoken. In regard to Ethical Psy-
chology, the term is explained in the present volume,
p. 193. And in support of my statement, that various
parts of this science belong in the strictest sense to
Theology, let such questions as the following be duly
considered. How far is it possible, without prayer,
to resist grave temptation, or keep the sum of God's
Commandments? How far is it possible to preserve
the remembrance of God throughout the day, amidst
the jar and tumult of every-day life ? How far is it
true, that, in our fallen state, our will is weaker in the
good than in the evil direction? How far are we
necessitated to aim at our own felicity ? These and
* See St. Thomas, 2* 2ae, q. 2, a. 4.
PREFACE. XV 11
many other questions of the same kind, it is manifest,
are most strictly theological ; they are such as the
Apostles must certainly have answered one way or
other, when delivering that body of doctrine, which is
to raise us towards sanctity. On the other hand,
these same questions are no less strictly psychological ;
and are amenable to the tribunal of consciousness and
experience. Then consider the great stress, laid by
St. Paul- and by the whole Church after him, on
Concupiscence. Does not this shew, how strictly theo-
logical is the discussion of its phenomena ? Yet what
is such discussion, except a psychological analysis ?
How large a portion of Theology is constituted by
this Higher Philosophy, one single consideration will
sufficiently shew. St. Thomas's 4 Summa ' is a ' Summa
Theologice : ' yet how large a portion of it is occupied,
with matters which are within the region of Philo-
sophy ? In the ' Pars Prima,' at least 35 questions
out of 119; in the 'Prima Secundse,' at least 82 out
of 114; in the ' Secunda Secundse,' not very far from
170 out of 189.* Again, ' Moral Theology,' as its name
denotes, is part of ' Theology ; ' yet, in at least two-
thirds of its extent, it is occupied with truths, which
are in themselves within the province of Reason. See
the remarks made in p. 151, 2 of this volume. See
however p. 117, 8 and p. 149-151.
The whole of my present volume, it will be seen,
* Pars la q. 2-22, and 75-88. Prima Secundae, q. 1-66 ; 71-79 ; 90-97. I
include q. 3 with its n. 8, because St. Thomas professes (though I venture to
think most unsatisfactorily) to prove by Reason, that Beatitude must consist
in the Vision of God's Essence. Secunda Secundee, q. 1-170. Since God's
Existence is demonstrable by Reason, so also must be the larger part of
those main doctrines, which relate to the three theological virtues.
b
XV111 PREFACE.
(with the most insignificant exception of four pages,
424-428) appertains to this part of Philosophy. The
first Chapter purports to be 'on the Principles of
* Morality ;' and the second, 'on Ethical Psychology :'
while of the third Chapter, its first Section belongs to
the latter, and its second to the former. It will be
desirable then to add a few words, on the spirit of
deference to the Church, with which every Catholic
philosopher is bound to approach such subjects.
Undoubtedly, whatever part of Philosophy be in-
vestigated by the Catholic, he owes implicit obedience
to the voice of the Church. Whether he be studying
the deep mysteries of Space and Time ; or the geological
conformation of our planet ; or the planetary universe
in general; — on all these subjects the Church possesses
indirect authority. In all these investigations, she has
the fullest right of peremptorily interfering, wherever
she judges that any scientific conclusions lead to
consequences, at variance with that doctrinal deposit
which is committed to her keeping.* But such inter-
* Lord Macaulay indeed attributes to us a different doctrine. He is
referring to the case of Galileo, and he makes this remark : ' All intelligent
1 Catholics now hold, with Pascal, that in deciding the point at all, the
' Church exceeded her powers, and was therefore justly left destitute of
' supernatural assistance.' (Review of Ranke.) I hope I am an ' intelligent
Catholic' ; but I utterly repudiate any such position. I never indeed
heard of any Catholic, ' intelligent ' or otherwise, who had given his atten-
tion to the subject, holding any position of the kind. And if Lord Macaulay
be right in thinking that Pascal did so, it is only necessary to reply, that
where the question concerns due submission to the Church, Pascal is among
the very last guides whom a well -instructed Catholic would wish to follow.
In regard to the censure of Galileo, if his censured propositions had been
most strictly and exclusively theological, it would have none the less been
true, that the c?nsure was not of that character, which any theologian regards
as claiming the Catholic's interior assent. It so happens, that proof can
be adduced of this, which must satisfy the most eager opponent.
PREFACE. XIX
ferences are of course most rare ; nor are they founded,
on any kind of authority which she possesses over
secular science as such. They are founded on the obliga-
tion under which she lies, of protecting her own science
from invasion and detriment ; and on the privileges with
which she has been invested by God, for the fulfilment
of that obligation. Such are the limits of the Church's
authority, within the sphere of purely secular science.
But when we are handling such subjects as those with
which the present volume is occupied, the case is most
different. We are on the Church's special ground. We
must look to her at every step for guidance : we must
carefully direct our course by those landmarks, which
she has so plentifully provided ; or some disastrous
misadventure will result.
But it is impossible for me to speak in this way,
without calling to mind the possibility, that this
volume may come under the eye of Protestants.
They will read such language as the above with so
much indignation and impatience, that it seems de-
F. Faure, S. J. was one of the most eminent and learned theologians
whom the last century produced. His eminence as an astronomer however
was far from equalling his eminence as a theologian ; and he was most
intensely opposed to the Copernican theory. Nay, he opposes Copernicanism
on theological grounds ; and says that, if we once admit it, we have no
defence left against Socinianism. ' Argumentati sumus,' he says, * neces-
sariam esse illationem a Copernicanismo affirmato, ad amrmandum Socini-
anismum' ; with very much more to the same purpose. (Notes on St. Augus-
tine's Enchiridion, Passaglia's Edition, p. 49, col. 2.)
Now F. Faure is writing to Catholics ; and he holds that, even on theo-
logical grounds, Copernicanism is a most pernicious and destructive error :
it is quite certain therefore, that he will make every use in his power of any
condemnation of Copernicanism, which the Church has ever pronounced. I
would beg the reader then most carefully to observe the following language.
* Quee omnia cum scribimus, scimus Socinianorum errorem . . . fuisse et esse
ab Ecclesia damnatum ; quam damnationem adhuc non pasta est hypothesis
XX PREFACE.
sirable to say something on its manifest reasonableness.
It is difficult, indeed, at all times to apprehend the
precise ground of Protestant dissent from our doctrines.
The deep and contemptuous prejudice with which
(alas for themselves!) they regard our Creed, so
possesses them, that they will not ordinarily take the
trouble to analyse their objections, or put them into
any definite shape. And so, in the matter before us,
they deal in vague generalities; they say, e.g. that our
maxims fetter the intellect, and enslave the soul : and
they leave us to guess at the meaning of these gene-
ralities as best we may.
Our own view of the case certainly seems on the
surface simple and intelligible. All Truth is ordinarily
a blessing ; but Truth, on those matters which directly
concern virtue and piety, is among the very greatest
blessings which we can receive. If then the Church is
divinely commissioned to teach us such Truth, we are
most grateful to God accordingly. We should no
more imagine that this precious gift fetters the intellect
and enslaves the soul, — than we should so think, if
Copernicana, sive ull& pontificia bulla sive ullo concilii cecumenici decreto.
Ceeterum nos, non auctoritate (quae nulla nobis est) definientes, sed theo-
logice ratiocinantes, argumentamur ab absurdo : quod argumentationis
genus Catholic! ipsi Scholastic! contra Scholasticos alios usurpant, sine alterius
injurid.' (p. 52, col. 1). F. Faure is evidently desirous that Copernicanism
should be condemned, and thinks that it fully deserves condemnation ; yet
he is obliged to confess that, at the moment of his writing, it is a perfectly
open question.
Nor does this arise, from his forgetting the censures which had been put
forth on Galileo ; for he distinctly mentions them immediately afterwards.
He cites the ' decreta Congregationis Cardinalium sub Paulo V. die 5 Martii,
1616 ;' and also the 'censuratheologorum de mandato pontificis selectorum.'
He cites these, at the head of his list of quotations ; quotations which
are adduced to shew, how many and how strong Catholic authorities he
PREFACE. XXI
God mercifully revealed the efficacy of some medicine,
which experience had not yet discovered; or than
Adam so thought, when God instructed him how to till
the earth and reap its fruits.
Such language then as the above seems most
strangely chosen, if all which Protestants mean to ex-
press is, that they are not themselves convinced, by
those proofs which satisfy us of the Church's infallible
authority. Such a difference is one of fact, not of
principle ; and it seems quite unmeaning to express it
in such phraseology as we have been considering. If
however this be their whole meaning, of course it is
impossible here to reply : because such a reply would
simply be a discussion on the grounds on which the
Church's claims repose ; and such a discussion would
occupy a volume. Here it is only necessary to say,
that a Protestant's authority on such a matter is, in
general, worth extremely little ; for a Protestant, who
knows with any kind of accuracy what we believe and
why, is among the rarest of human beings.
But I cannot help thinking, that Protestants do
often mean something more definite, when they use such
has on his side. But the idea never occurs to him of pressing them
further ; of even starting the supposition, that they bind the Catholic's
opinion to one side of the question.
I should add, that he speaks of ' Copernicani Catholici, si qui sunt qui
systema illud, non tantuin ut hypothesin, defendunt ; in quo nulla esset
difficultas.' This shews, I suppose, that not many Catholics in F. Faure's
time held Copernican opinions ; so far at least as he was himself aware :
but it shews much more clearly, that (in Faure's judgment) they might
hold them, without ceasing to be Catholics ; or in other words (which
indeed he had already expressly stated) that Copernicanism had never
been condemned.
See, On the relations between Christianity and Scientific Investigation,
an able essay of Father Newman's : ' On University Subjects,' p. 262.
XXli PREFACE.
language. Some such statement as the following may
perhaps correctly express their objection. ' Of course,
' where truth is to be received, which is above the
4 sphere of the intellect, an unquestioning acceptance of
4 God's Word is our only mode of arriving at it. But
* within the region of Philosophy, the intellect should
4 reign supreme and uncontrolled. Wherever any
4 matter is concerned, which the intellect can reach at
« all, — its one way of reaching it is the way of free,
* unrestrained, unbiassed enquiry. To place any check
' upon such enquiry, is to fetter the intellect and enslave
4 the soul. Here is one strong reason, in addition to the
4 many others which will ever keep me back from
4 Catholicism ; viz. that it sanctions such tyrannical
' interference. I can never believe, that a revelation
4 from God goes counter to those intellectual laws,
4 which God Himself established in creating man/
This is undoubtedly a most intelligible objection ;
and one which we can briefly notice in this place. I
reply then most confidently, by denying the whole
assumed principle. I deny altogether, that the intel-
lect's appointed way of arriving at Truth, is that of
unbiassed and uncontrolled inquiry. I assert the very
contrary. I maintain, that so soon as the intellect quits
the region of pure mathematics, it absolutely requires,
for its healthy action, the being compelled constantly
to compare its conclusions with some external standard.
The vast majority even of speculative men, — or (to
speak more truly) the whole body of them without
exception, — have so constant a tendency to take up
premisses, with no due regard to their truth and their
sufficiency ; and to adopt reasoning with no due regard
PREFACE. XX111
to its validity ; that the human intellect will inevitably
plunge more deeply into error at every step, unless
some powerful corrective be applied to its spontaneous
operations.
My first illustration of this statement shall be one,
to which my opponents, least of all men, are likely to
demur : the case of mediaeval physics. I am wholly
ignorant myself, I regret to say, of the very rudiments
of physical science : but there seems a consensus of
all who have examined the subject, that the aberrations
of physical science in the middle age were incredibly
great ; and that those aberrations were all due to one
cause. Enquirers of that age, we are told, had not
learnt to check their conclusions at every step by ap-
peal to experiment. Each speculator was consequently
enabled, without restraint or hindrance, to follow his
own preconceived ideas. The whole mass of physical
error then, prevalent at that time, was owing to the one
fact, that the intellect was left to its own intrinsic and
spontaneous operations, without the necessity of con-
forming its conclusions to some external standard.
Since the days of Bacon, it would seem, all this has
been reformed. The great body of physical sciences
seem to unite those two characteristics, which (when
found together) constitute the surest proof, that a
science has been duly constituted: I mean, stability
and progressiveness. Each new generation of enquirers
find fresh ground, for holding the great mass of Truth
which they have received ; and at the same time have
the means of importantly adding to that mass. Such
are the advantages which flow, from the intellect being
compelled to adjust its conclusions by an external
standard.
XXIV PKEFACE.
But there is one science, if science it can indeed be
called, which still reminds us of mediaeval physics. It
is the Protestant attempt at constituting Morality and
Theology. What is the popular account of ante-
Baconian physics? Such as the following. We are
told, that the treatment of physical matters, then pre-
valent, was a disputatious, never-ending, still-beginning,
strife of words. We are reminded, that the most in-
genious series of deductions is useless, or worse than
useless, where no pains is taken, to confront them with
the external standard of actual experiment. We are
informed, that after ten centuries so employed, — after
the production of as many different theories as there
have been speculators, each professing to exhaust the
whole domain of physical science, and each irre-
concileably at variance with all others, — the world will
end just as wise as it began.
Such is the description popularly given of physical
science, as it stood before the era of experiment. I
earnestly wish my readers will peruse it again, and see
in what respect it can be said to differ from Protestant
Theology. In this also, each speculator has his own
especial theory: each speculator professes to exhaust
the whole domain of revealed science ; to give us his
views, thought out by himself from the intimations
of Scripture, on the Trinity, on Original Sin, on
Eternal Punishment, on Justification by Faith. And
what has been the result? The great test, as I just
now observed, of a science being truly constituted, is
the union of stability and progressiveness. As to the
stability of Protestant Theology, it is but insulting
Protestants to name the very notion : it is on its pro-
gressiveness that they love to insist. Now what has
PREFACE. XXV
been its progressiveness ? Its progressiveness has
consisted in its declension. Its course has been the
gradual' subtraction of one doctrine after another ; until
at length it seems culminating in the denial of all
dogma whatever : I mean, of course, as dogma ; as
being certainly revealed by God. The number of
Protestants surely is becoming daily fewer, who will
say of any doctrine, of any moral precept, ' this is a
certain part of Christ's Revelation?' Things are more
and more coming to this, that in no Protestant society
is there any body of truths, accepted and recognised
among its members as the truths of Revelation. And
how are we to account for this state of things ? It
arises from the fact, that the intellect has been left to
work upon certain data, without being required to con-
form its conclusions with some external standard, un-
mistakeable in utterance and peremptory in authority.
It has thus become a prey to its own waywardness and
wilfulness.
Reverting however to physical science, — I will ask
this question. Suppose some eminent philosopher is
led by deduction to a certain result : he compares that
result with phenomena, and finds it erroneous. Does
it ever occur to him, that by this process his intellect
is enslaved and his soul fettered ? On the contrary, he
is most grateful for this opportunity of experimental
disproof; he feels confident at once, that either his pre-
misses have been unsound or insufficient, or his in-
ferences too hasty. He reviews his past course of
reasoning, fully assured that he will make one or other
of these discoveries ; and his assurance is invariably
justified by the event. Such is precisely the course
XXVI PREFACE.
adopted by a Catholic philosopher, in treating on such
subjects as those of the present volume, if he find his
conclusions at variance with the Church's voice. If
such a procedure be the mark of intellectual slavery,
then the votary of modern physical science is of all
thinkers the most enslaved. But in fact every sober-
minded man must regard it as an inappreciable advan-
tage, that some guarantee should be afforded, against
that one-sidedness, eccentricity, partiality, to which the
unchecked intellect is ever exposed.
I need hardly add of course, that if our external
standard were not infallibly correct, there would be
intolerable bondage in being required to adjust by it
our intellectual conclusions : and indeed unless we
firmly believed it thus infallible, such a task would be
simply impossible. I am not here at all professing to
argue against those, who merely deny our allegation,
that there is sufficient proof of the Church's infallibility.
I have only been arguing against those who maintain,
that there is some special objection to the very principle
on which the Church proceeds ; the principle of re-
quiring intellectual submission to an external standard,
on matters which are within the province of Reason.
One final question will be asked. In regard to
those philosophical truths which are within the domain
of Theology, what is the distinction between their philo-
sophical and their theological treatment? I think the
two following particulars constitute the main distinction.
(1.) The philosopher, as such, has no concern with
any truth, except as demonstrable by Reason : wherever
he has no proof from Reason to produce, the truths are
out of his province. (2.) Although the Catholic philo-
PREFACE. XXV11
sopher is bound to take care, that his conclusions are
fully in accordance with the pronouncements of sound
Theology, — yet it is no part of his business to exhibit
that accordance. The theologian, on the contrary, has
no task more peculiarly his own, than to shew in every
instance the accordance of those doctrines which he de-
livers, with the decrees of the Church ; with Scripture ;
with Tradition ; and with the other ' loci theologici.'
IT is now sufficiently apparent, what is meant by the
* philosophical introduction ' to a c theological treatise.*
It is the exhibition of those truths, as demonstrable by
Reason, the mastery of which will enable us more fully
to grasp the meaning or the evidence of the theological
doctrines appertaining to that treatise. How far the
propositions handled in the present Book have been
well chosen for that end, it will be impossible of course
for the reader to determine, till he has seen the subsequent
volumes. But how far the said propositions are true, —
and how far the argumentative support here given to
them is adequate, — this is at once a most legitimate
matter for criticism.
Of these propositions, by far the most important
and fundamental, are those contained in the three first
Sections. The second and third of these treat on the
nature of Moral Truth ; and the first lays down a
necessary foundation for such treatment. The idea
4 morally good,' — with its cognates ' morally preferable/
4 morally evil,' — occurs at every step, through the whole
science on * Nature and Grace/ So far as we apprehend
these ideas obscurely, such obscurity will vitiate our
apprehension of almost every single doctrine in the
XXV111 PREFACE.
science. The Church has not determined the precise
character of this idea ; though of course it is most fully
within her province to do so : but among the various
theories which may be maintained by Catholics, I am
most strongly convinced that the theory which I ad-
vocate is, in all essential particulars, the theory which
Reason declares.
No candid student indeed of Theology or Philo-
sophy will deny, that in both these sciences there are
many questions, even very important ones, of a more or
less doubtful character. There are many questions, on
which much may be urged with reason and soundness on
both sides ; on which the investigation of Truth is a most
anxious and delicate task ; and on which, even when we
have decided that the balance inclines in one direction,
we are obliged in fairness to admit, that various objec-
tions and difficulties remained unsolved. We shall meet
with many such questions in the succeeding volumes,
and there are one or two of the same kind in the present.
But I maintain confidently, that no such thing can truly
be said on the matters handled in those two Sections.
I maintain confidently, that while the reasons for that
theory which I follow are cogent and irresistible, —
there is neither difficulty nor objection, which possesses
the slightest force on the opposite side. It will be for
my reader of course to decide, — after having carefully
studied the reasoning adduced, — how far that reason-
ing warrants so confident a judgment. But I may
refer them to the passage from p. 95 to p. 98, as con-
taining an argument, which in itself (if it stood alone)
seems to me quite decisive. And I may refer them to
the passage from p. 102 to p. 107, as noticing that ob-
PREFACE. XXIX
•
jection, which, more than all others put together, deters
some most pious and admirable Catholics from the con-
clusion which I advocate.
• On this most important matter, as will be seen, I am
utterly opposed to the opinion, that all moral obliga-
tion is founded on the Creator's Command. Now I have
found some Catholics under the impression, that this
opinion rests on a degree of theological authority,
which would make it at least temerarious in any Catholic
to question it. There cannot be a greater miscon-
ception than this ; I am confident indeed, that the
great preponderance of authority is on my side. I
have added therefore a Supplementary Section to shew
this. This Section in no way professes a theological
treatment of the question ; it is purely defensive, and
directed against such adverse impressions as those to
which I have just referred.
A considerable number of moral truths, in my
humble opinion, are known to us intuitively. It was
necessary therefore to prefix a preliminary Section, on
the authority and self-evidence of various intuitive
judgments. Moreover, some of the most current objec-
tions, to that view of morality which I follow, are of
such a nature, that if they were once admitted as of
force, nothing could reasonably ensue, except the most
absolute and hopeless scepticism. It was therefore
essential, to enter in sufficient detail on this question
of scepticism.
My immediate reason then for introducing a philoso-
phical treatment of these two subjects, — viz. (1) the
self-evidence of certain intuitions, and (2) the character
of Moral Truth, — has been simply the indispensable ne-
XXX PREFACE.
*
cessity of such treatment for the purposes of our science.
But if I had been specially thinking of contemporaneous
non-Catholic philosophy, I could not have made a more
pertinent selection. Thus (1) the main drift and cur-
rent of such philosophy, as Dr. Brownson most justly
remarks,* is towards a denial of Objective Truth. There
is no refutation of this error, I think, so available, as
that which shews the desolating extent to which such
principles must consistently be carried, if they are
worth any thing at all. This I have attempted to shew
in my first Section. It will also be found (I think)
that the philosophical principles advocated in that Sec-
tion, if accepted as sound, add most importantly to the
philosophical argument for God's existence. So much
on the first Section. Then (2) the Objective Reality
of moral distinctions, — the subject considered in the two
following, — is perhaps equally important, in its bearing
on the controversies of the time. If once admitted, it
sweeps clean away that vague and misty Pantheism,
which is at present so miserable a snare to the non-
Catholic world. No human being has ever yet been
found, who thoroughly holds the Objective Reality of
moral distinctions, without going on further, to recognise
a Personal God, the Moral Governor of mankind. f
* " Protestantism is not a religion ; is not a credo or a worship ; but is
a suspense of faith ; a transition from the old superannuated Catholic form
to some newer and nobler form yet to be developed In former times
religion was regarded as having an Objective Truth, a subsistence independent
of man ; and the question was, which and what is the true religion, if any ?
But now it is not so. This order of thought denies all Absolute, and there-
fore all Objective Truth, and makes both religion and truth purely relative
and subjective. To refute it, we must establish the objectivity of thought
itself; i.e. the Objective Truthfulness of Reason:'— Jan. 1860, pp. 22, 23.
t This has been most ably stated by Mr. Martineau ; a writer who
PREFACE. XXXI
A remonstrance of the following kind has reached
me from one or two Catholics. 4 Surely,' they say, c all
1 Catholics are united in essentials, as regards the real
* character of Moral Truth. No Catholic e.g. really
4 fancies, that God could command pride or malevo-
1 lence ; nor does any Catholic on the other hand hold,
4 that there is some abstract Moral Rule, distinct from
' and independent of Himself. Catholics differ on such
' points, rather in their expressions than in their thoughts ;
4 and it is undesirable to dwell on such points of differ-
' ence, when we should rather aim at presenting an
4 united front.'
There are many replies, which I could make to
this: I will content myself with two. The question
here to be considered, it will be seen, is not whether
those views be correct which I myself maintain on
Moral Truth, but whether it be of any great importance
to have correct views. And I most gladly concur
with the objector in thinking, that on such matters
expresses himself, not only with so much depth and clearness of thought,
but in many respects with such deep recognition of piety and religion, that
it is most painful to think, how many of his opinions must be regarded by
every Catholic, as not erroneous merely, but deeply pernicious. These are
his words on the matter in hand : —
" No ethical conceptions are possible at all, except as floating shreds of
unattached thought, without a religious background ; and the sense of
responsibility, the agony of shame, the inner reverence for justice, first
find their meaning and vindication in a Supreme Holiness that rules the
world. Nor can any one be penetrated with the distinction between right
and wrong, without recognising it as valid for all free beings, and incapable
of local or arbitrary change. His feeling insists on its permanent recognition
and omnipresent sway ; and this unity in the Moral Law carries him to the
Unity of the Divine Legislator. Theism is thus the indispensable postulate
of conscience ; its objective counterpart and justification, without which
its inspirations would be illusions and its veracities themselves a lie."
Studies of Christianity, p. 9. See also p. 75 of this volume, and the passage
of F. Newman there referred to.
XXX11 PREFACE.
Catholics differ, not so much in principle, as in their
respective mode of analysing those principles which
they hold in common. Yet it is of very great moment,
in regard to a most extensive part of theological science,
that the student should have clear views on the terms
' right ' and ' wrong ; ' and the same thing is extremely
important on other grounds also. But where prin-
ciples are the same, to hold clear views, is to hold
correct views : if an incorrect view be consistent with
sound principle on the subject, it must be precisely
because such view is obscure. This is my first re-
ply; and I proceed to a second. It is of extreme
moment, that the Objective Eeality of moral distinctions
should be urged on various non-Catholic philosophers.
Now we can only urge this truth on them, by means of
argument; and argument is not available for an incor-
rect statement of the truth, but only for a correct one.
On both these grounds therefore it is in the highest
degree desirable, that we Catholics shall come to agree>
what that correct statement really is.
There are some peculiarities of arrangement in the
present volume, which make it necessary to offer some
further explanation, in regard to the three first Sections.
No one can be surprised, that I feel most deeply
the anxious and momentous character of the work
which I have undertaken, and. the great danger of
falling into serious mistakes in its accomplishment.
I felt it very desirable therefore, before publishing
this volume, that I should obtain the judgment of
theological friends on its contents. Accordingly, I
circulated it privately so long ago as last October ;
and I have been so fortunate as to receive numerous
PREFACE. XXxili
and valuable comments on its many defects. The
course of reflection into which these comments led
me, determined me wholly to re-write the three first
Sections. It did not appear to me that in other
portions any alteration was absolutely indispensable.
But there is no part of the volume, in which it is so
important to convey my meaning clearly and con-
vincingly, as in these first Sections ; and there was no
part in which I had made less approach towards attain-
ing that desirable object.
This failure arose in part, from my having attempted
to combine two incompatible ends. It is not difficult,
and I never found it so, in dealing with students who
have received no special philosophical instruction,* to
place before them (what I consider) the true principles
on Certitude and on Morality, with amply sufficient
clearness ; with so much clearness, as should enable
them, both to understand those principles, and to
appreciate their argumentative foundation. Nor, on
the other hand, can I admit that it is at all difficult to
place the same principles, with the same clearness,
before those who have given considerable attention to
Philosophy : for the unquestionable truth of these
principles (according to my view of the case) makes
the task a comparatively easy one. But to combine
these two ends, (is I believe) not difficult, but impossible.
Yet in this volume, as it first issued from the press, I
did attempt to combine them. The consequence was,
as might have been expected, that the three Sections
were too lengthy and obscure to be apprehended by
* At St. Edmund's I was allowed to give some instructions to those who
were just beginning their philosophical studies.
XXXI V PREFACE.
Beginners ; while they were too brief and hurried, to
give time for meeting fairly the difficulties and ob-
jections which occur to those versed in Philosophy.
Indeed, in the very construction of the volume there
was ample proof, how little my plan had been matured.
For when first I began writing, I had intended to omit
all direct treatment of that most important question,
the relation between God and Necessary Truth. As
I proceeded, I found more and more the impractic-
ableness of such omission ; and at last I had to add an
Appendix, for the purpose of explaining what I ought
to have stated at first.
This was, in part, the reason why these Sections,
in their original state, were obscure without being
profound, and lengthy without being full. Another
reason was my culpable inattention (here and there) to
strict accuracy of statement. The strongest instance
of this is referred to in p. 30 with the appended note.
The theory there mentioned, and which many attributed
to me, had never so much as occurred to my imagi-
nation; yet I could not deny, when my attention was
called to it, that there were various passages which,
considered apart from the general context, gave much
support to this interpretation of my meaning.
I have consequently re-written the three first Sec-
tions ; keeping no other end in view, except to present
my arguments in the clearest possible shape, before
those who are conversant with philosophical inquiries.
It should be distinctly understood however, that I have
not made any change whatever in the philosophical
principles which I have advocated, or even in the
slightest detail or particular of philosophical opinion :
PREFACE. XXXV
as any one may readily see, who will read the Sections
as they originally stood. It is necessary to make this
explanation, quite apart from any vindication of
personal consistency, for the interests of what I
regard as truth. I could not expect the view, which I
advocate, to be considered with any care or attention,
if it were supposed to be a theory newly adopted; at
variance with one formerly held ; and merely taken up,
under pressure of adverse argument. But nothing could
be more contrary to the fact than any such supposition.
Indeed the various comments, which I have received on
the three Sections, would have greatly increased and
intensified my conviction of their substantial truth, if
that conviction had not already been so strong, as to be
incapable of increase from any further argumentative
confirmation.
I have greatly increased then the length of the
first Sections, and have incorporated into them what
stood as the Appendix. In order to make room for
these additions, I have moved — to the end of the volume
— that Section which stood fourth in order, giving it
the title ' Supplementary Section/ Even after doing
this, two or three pages, and two or three numbers,
will be found twice over : I have therefore marked
them with an asterisk, where they occur in the third
Section. Finally I have added a brief paper of ' Cor-
rigenda ;' chiefly for the purpose of correcting refer-
ences, made in the later Sections, to the first three
Sections as they originally stood.
ON the rest of the volume, considered in detail, very
few preliminary remarks seem required. In the re-
XXX VI PREFACE.
maining Sections of the first Chapter, I have pursued on
grounds of Reason, these three enquiries. (1) What
is the appropriate means, whereby Reason, were it left
to work by itself, might arrive at Moral Truth? (2)
How far does Moral Truth extend over the various acts
of us men, in the nature and circumstances which God
has appointed to us ? (3) What is the full power pos-
sessed by God of working a change in Moral Truth ?
The precise relation between God and Moral Truth
cannot possibly be understood, till this last point has
been carefully considered ; and the seventh Section is
consequently devoted to its investigation.
The various matters, treated in the second Chapter
under the head of c Ethical Psychology,' are such, that
the reader will at once see their importance, in the way
of preparation for that portion of Theology which we
undertake. I may however beg him specially to notice
the distinction between 'implicit' or 'virtual' and merely
4 habitual ' intention, because of the extremely important
practical consequences which result from that distinction.
See p. 233-238 and p. 246-248.*
* One of these consequences is so incalculably important, in its bearing
on the spiritual life of every single day, that I will here state it. It will
have no natural place in the body of this treatise till we come to the third
Book ; but what here follows will be readily intelligible, to any one who
has read carefully the above- cited pages. It is taken almost word for
word, from one of the lectures which I gave at St. Edmund's.
Men unversed in Theology, I remarked to my pupils, sometimes speak,
as though a merely habitual intention could make a present action good,
which would otherwise not be so. They will tell you, e. g. that if in the
morning I refer all my acts of the day to God, this makes every act of the
day, which would be otherwise indifferent, individually good. Yet it is
hardly credible that men, not absolutely bereft of reason, should gravely
put forth such an absurdity as is here stated. Of course, if the morning
reference have left a trace of itself behind ; — if, as a consequence of that
reference, I am in fact at this moment really (though unconsciously) refer-
PREFACE. XXX Vll
Again, it may be worth while to mention here,
that the discussions of the third Section in this second
Chapter lands us at the very threshold of the whole
theological doctrine of concupiscence. There could
follow immediately afterwards (1) an explanation and
definition of the term 'concupiscence;' (2) a detailed
consideration of the phenomena which that term ex-
presses ; and (3) a treatment of those very important
passages, wherein St. Paul refers to these phenomena.
I would also direct particular attention to the long fifth
Section, ' On the Adaptation of our Nature to Virtue.'
This Section is almost entirely independent of what
precedes and follows, and its reasoning is far more easy
of apprehension, than are the various arguments of the
first Chapter. It is possible therefore, that various
readers, who may not care to take the pains of mastering
that earlier Chapter, may yet be not unwilling to study
this particular part of the volume. The proposition on
which I lay far the greatest stress is this ; that there is
no one propension, implanted by God in our nature,
which is not capable of legitimate gratification in the
ring my acts to a good end ; — then our very statement is, that my acts (if
otherwise faultless) are truly good. Here is a real case of * implicit * or
' virtual ' intention. But we are now speaking of the case, when the morn-
ing reference has not left behind it any trace, which at this moment exists.
And to say that, in such a case, that past reference makes the present act
good, is among the most extravagantly absurd of all imaginable proposi-
tions.
We shall in due time have to consider one of Luther's strangest
heresies ; it is this, that so only we have what he calls faith, (i.e. unbounded
confidence in the certainty of our own salvation), our acts, though remaining
bad, are counted by God as if they were good, and are requited accordingly.
A monstrous statement, indeed ! but yet one which is immeasurably less
absurd, than that which I am now assailing. For my present opponent
does not say that, in consequence of my morning's reference, my present
act is counted by God as though it were good ; but that it actually is good~
XXXV111 PKEFACE.
cause of virtue, see p. 259-359. It is evident at once,
how vitally momentous is this proposition, (if once it
be admitted as true,) on the whole theory of spiritual
guidance and direction. It is also evident at once how
important a corroboration it will furnish, to the argu-
ment for that all-important truth, the Creator's Sanctity,
Were it only on these grounds, I hope that my readers
will carefully examine the course of reasoning on which
it is supported. But my chief reason for laying so
much stress on it has been the following.
There is one miserable habit, against which it
seems to me that we have especially to be on our
guard, in the present age : — the habit of worldliness.
By this I mean, the not practically regarding it as
any part of our ordinary Christian duty, to labour
He absolutely says, incredible as tke fact must appear, that an act is consti-
tuted good, from a circumstance which in no way affects it ; from a circum-
stance which is done and over, leaving no trace behind. 'Yesterday afternoon,'
e.g. ' I elicited a certain act ; this present afternoon I elicit another, which
' is precisely similar to yesterday's in every single circumstance without
' exception. Yet the act of yesterday afternoon is good and the act of this
' present afternoon is bad, — because yesterday morning I made a reference
of my day's acts to God, and this morning I did not.' Intellectual drivel-
ling can hardly sink below this ; it is like saying that my evening cup
of tea is sweet, because I put a lump of sugar into the cup which I drank
at breakfast. Lugo gives expression to this common-sense principle, by
taking the particular case of temperance at meals. You and I are both at
dinner : our will is affected (we will suppose) in precisely the same way
towards the delicacies before us ; and our external acts also are precisely
similar. Yet it shall be judged forsooth that I am acting at this moment
rightly and you wrongly, — or (in other words) that I am eating temperately
and you zratemperately, — because in the morning I referred my dinner to
God, and you did not. Of course, that shews that in the morning I acted
(so far) better than you ; that I at least elicited one good act which you did
not. But how upon earth can this circumstance affect the present act,
unless it does affect the present act ? I mean, if the action of my will at this
moment is not intrinsecally affected by my morning's reference, how can
the moral quality of that action be affected by such reference 1 ( Certum
PREFACE. XXXIX
directly and systematically at the task, of raising
our affections from earthly to heavenly objects.* In
the third and fourth Books I shall have again and again
to revert upon this. I shall have to shew my grounds
for believing that this danger now very specially exists ;
the causes which (in my humble judgment) lead to it ;
deplorable and degraded state of mind which worldliness
engenders, and which is the more deplorable, because
its true character is so commonly unsuspected ; lastly,
our appropriate safeguards against it. I need hardly
say that, among those safeguards, theological study
itself has a very prominent place, for those who have
the means of pursuing such study ; because the great
end to be aimed at for the purpose of protection, is the
obtaining an intimate and familiar acquaintance with
the great Objects of Faith. But, not here to dwell upon
mihi est,' says Lugo, 'hanc voluntatem merd habitualem non sufficere ad
meritum . . . operis sequentis. . . Quare qui mane refert omnes suas actiones
ad Deum, si postea pransurus itd se hdbet ac si earn voluntatem non habuisset,
nee comestio oritur ex ed voluntate nee ab alia bona et honesta, non magis
meretur per comestionem, qudm si earn voluntatem non habuisset.'' (De Pceni-
tentia, d. 7, n. 39.)
In a word, then, I cannot now be eliciting a good act of any kind, unless
my will be now influenced by a good motive : unconsciously perhaps, but
really and truly ; I may not see it, but God sees it. I am not now eliciting
an act of justice, because I elicited one in the morning ; my will must now
be fixed on the virtuousness of justice. I am not eliciting an act of tem-
perance now, when my meal is over and I am engaged very freely in talking
and laughing, — because I ate my meal temperately when I was eating it.
And in like manner, if I wish at this moment to have the advantage of
referring my acts to God, I must be referring them to Him at this moment ;
not perhaps consciously, but really, practically, influentially. It does not.
make my present act good, that I elicited a very good act in the morning.
Among innumerable testimonies to this principle, I drew their particular
attention to F. Rigolieuc's beautiful treatise ' De la Garde du Cceur.'
* See Father Faber's most powerful chapter on 'the World,' in the
'Creator and the Creature.' That chapter is, I think, among the most
masterly things he has ever done.
X.1 PKEFACE.
tliis, it is plain that one most powerful help will be ob-
tained for deliverance from worldliness, in proportion
as men are practically impressed with the conclusion,
to which this fifth Section is mainly directed. It is
plain, I say, that men will be immeasurably more en-
couraged to labour at fixing their hearts on the Invisible
World, in proportion as they come to the conviction,
that all their deepest emotions, all their keenest af-
fections, may thus receive satisfaction, both far more
intense and far more permanent, than the wretched
objects of this perishable world can possibly afford.
In regard to the third Chapter, it must be manifest
to any one reading it, how completely the two questions,
there discussed, constitute an integral part of our
science.
And in regard to the short fourth Chapter, its-
indispensable necessity, for our subsequent theological
reasoning, will be thoroughly recognised by all who
may read the following volumes. The doctrine of
Liberty e.g., and again the unavoidableness of venial
sin, are perfectly unintelligible without such a pre-
paration.
HAVING now said all that seems necessary on the
general contents of the volume, I will close this Preface
with a few miscellaneous remarks.
It will be observed, that I have introduced a large
number of quotations from Father Newman ; and
chiefly, though not exclusively, from his Protestant
works. I have had two reasons for doing this. In the
first place, I was desirous that Catholic readers should
know, how large a fund of deep Christian Philosophy
PREFACE. xll
is contained in F. Newman's Protestant works. And
those who may be struck by the specimens which I
bring before them, will not improbably be led to
consult the originals.
But there was another much stronger reason. I
hope it may not be considered egotistical, if I speak on
the intellectual relation in which I stood for many
years to F. Newman. Certainly it ought, not so to be
considered ; for such relation was in no way peculiar
to myself: on the contrary, very great numbers of us
converts would have substantially the same testimony
to give, though with accidental differences, according
to the circumstances of each individual case. What I
have to state, then, is this, I was enmeshed in the toils
of a false philosophy, which could have had no other
legitimate issue, except a further and further descent
towards the gulf of utter infidelity. From this thraldom,
the one human agency which effected my deliverance
was F. Newman's teaching. My deliverance was
wrought, not merely through the truth and depth (as
I consider) of those philosophical principles which he
inculcated ; but also through the singular large-
mindedness, whereby he was able to make those
principles both intelligible and attractive to every
variety of character. In regard, then, to those citations
which I make from his Protestant works, I wish to ex-
plain the meaning of my adducing them. I do not quote
them, as external testimonies for this or that truth, to
which my own reflection had brought me ; every one
of them had its place, in opening that truth itself on
my apprehension. Take any one of F. Newman's
utterances in his Protestant works on the one hand;
Xlii PREFACE.
and take any one of my own convictions on moral and
religious matters on the other hand ; it is often im-
possible for me even to guess, how far the former may
have been simply the one exciting cause of the latter.
I am saying this, simply to explain the meaning of
my references to so great a benefactor : not in any way,
as though I claimed his authority, in approval of what
I have now written. I might, in my present circum-
stances, venture to differ from him, even on very
important matters of thought on which Catholics are
allowed to differ ; and yet I must not, on that account,
appear to forget, that to him, as to the one human
cause, I owe the inestimable blessing of having become
a Catholic at all.
The mention of one individual leads me not un-
naturally to speak of other individuals. I have criti-
cised, in my first Section, Mr. Mansel and Mr. Mill, as
representing in different ways what I have called the
semi-sceptical position in Philosophy. To each of
these gentlemen accordingly I forwarded, half a year
ago, the volume as it then stood.
I have to thank Mr. Mansel sincerely, for his kind
reception of it, and for the frank explanation which he
was so good as to send me on the matter between us.
My own statement of the point at issue, in the volume
as it then stood, was far from clear ; and it is probable
enough that, had the case been otherwise, a greater
amount of agreement would have resulted, from our
mutual communication. However that may be, I am
still (quite as strongly as before) under the impression,
that Mr. Mansel and I are at direct issue on the matter
referred to ; nor can I honestly speak, as though I con-
PREFACE. Xliii
sidered this matter to be one of subordinate importance.
See p. 20-25. But in expressing very earnest dissent
from what I understand to be Mr. Hansel's proposition,
I trust that neither my words nor my tone are in any
way inconsistent with most sincere respect. Such
respect is certainly Mr. MansePs due, for the great
services which he has rendered in many ways to the
cause of sound Philosophy.
In regard to Mr. Stuart Mill, I can only say that
he could not have treated me with greater kindness or
courtesy, had he concurred with the main substance of
my volume, instead of differing (as I fear is the case)
on almost every premiss, and almost every conclusion.
His comments have enabled me, I hope, to bring out
my side of the controversy with greater distinctness
and precision ; and they have confirmed me in the
impression which I have long entertained, of his
intellectual character. Of Mr. Mill certainly, if of any
man living, it may truly be said, that he aims at doing
the fullest justice to every school of thought, however
remote from his own ; and that the one aim, which
consciously influences his intellectual exertions, is the
pursuit of truth. May the Merciful God grant him,
before he dies, the unspeakable blessing of its pos-
session !
Reverting to the general contents of the volume, I
should observe that I have retained the form of Lectures
throughout, and have addressed my various remarks to
an imaginary audience of pupils. One chief reason for
this, has been my desire of thereby rendering my style
less dull and heavy than it naturally is. The same
desire has led me, in various places, to be much more
PREFACE.
frequent in the use of Italics, than is (I fear) really
conducive to the very purpose at which I aimed.
I have already spoken of my anxiety, in regard to
the work which I have undertaken. I should have
felt this, in undertaking any theological treatise. But
surely there is no part of Theology, in which it is so
easy to fall into serious mistakes, — in which it is so
difficult to preserve faithfully the true mean, — as in
that, with which my succeeding volumes are to be
occupied. Let one important instance of this be con-
sidered, as a sample of several. On the one hand there
is the danger, lest theological doctrine should be so
represented, as unduly to alarm those, who sincerely
desire and pray for their own sanctification ; but who
are conscious of indefinite weakness and inconsistency.
On the other hand there is the danger, lest any thing
should be even accidentally stated, which might con-
firm in their blind and presumptuous confidence those
most misguided men, who have no practical fear in
regard to their eternal lot, while yet they are making
no efforts at all to discover their latent faults ; to
remove their affections from objects of this earth ; to
measure worldly events by the Divine standard ; to
grow in personal love of their God and Saviour. One
hardly knows, which of these two extremes is the more
mischievous and dangerous ; and it is most difficult,
consistently to avoid giving some countenance to one
or to the other.
Such being my dread of the task before me, I might
well have shrunk from attempting it. And certainly
indeed I should have so shrunk, had not circumstances
of various kinds led me strongly to think, that it is a
PREFACE. xlv
work which God desires at my hands. In this opinion
I have been confirmed, by more than one clerical friend,
thoroughly conversant with the state of the case, and
on whose judgment I have the greatest reliance.
I have only therefore earnestly to pray for God's
Merciful Guidance ; and to submit most unreservedly
each volume, as it appears, to the Church's judgment.
In this very Preface I have strongly urged, that nearly
all the subjects, treated in this volume, fall most directly
and absolutely under the Church's jurisdiction. If
then there be any proposition in them which the Church
may think fit to censure, — God forbid there should be
any such ! — I am certain beforehand, that such state-
ment is no less contrary to Reason than to Theology ;
and at this moment I implicitly (implicite) revoke and
renounce it.
It is abundantly possible again, that there may be
various views, here contained, which, though not incurring
the Church's censure, may be mistaken in themselves and
injurious in their tendency. May God grant that any
such views may be speedily and efficaciously refuted !
If on the other hand (as I earnestly hope is the case)
there are other propositions which are true and sound,
may He bless them to the one ultimate end which
every theologian must propose for his labours, — the
sanctification and salvation of souls !
Northwood Park, Cowes,
Feast of St. Joseph's Patronage, April 29, 1860.
TABLE OF CONTENTS TO BOOK I.
CHAPTER I.
ON THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY.
SECTION I.
On Intuitions and on the Principle of Certitude.
PAOB
1. Judgments of Consciousness and Judgments of Intuition. . 5
2. Judgments of unconscious Inference. .... 7
3. The principle of Philosophical Scepticism stated. . . 9
4. The Sceptic's answer to a Semi-sceptic 10
5. Consistently to hold Sceptical opinions, is physically im-
possible. 14
6. Semi-scepticism is an utterly unreasonable and inconsistent
position. .... ^>^ .... 15
7. Scepticism need not in consistency extend to Judgments
of Consciousness. . . . . . . .16
8. Scepticism a worse extreme even than Rationalism. . ib.
9. The Principle of Certitude stated and defended. . . 18
10. The Principle of Certitude has been denied by Mr. Man-
sel, though partially and inconsistently. . . .19
11. Also by Mr. Stuart Mill and his school. ... 25
12. Intuitional light the reasonable ground, for our confidently
holding certain intuitive judgments. ... 29
13. Fundamental importance of laying down some test of legi-
timate intuitions. ....... 33
14. Two explanatory and qualifying statements on this. . 34
15. F. Burner's tests of legitimate intuitions. ... 37
16. A thesis may be most fully founded on reason, yet not on
reasoning. ......... 38
17. Remarks on the sense in which we throughout used the
word * intuition,' and other kindred terms. . . 39
18. On necessary intuems 42
19. On the relation between God and Necessary Truth. . ib.
20. Concluding remark on the Section. . " . . .47
Xlviii CONTENTS.
SECTION II.
On the Essential Characteristics of Moral Truth.
PAGE
21. Various judgments stated, which include in different shapes
the idea * morally good.' ...... 48
22. What is meant by simple and complex ideas ? 50
23. What is meant by analytical and synthetical judgments ?
Various subdivisions of the former. .... 52
24. The idea ' morally evil ' is maintained to be a l simple
idea.' 55
25. Reply to that attempted analysis, which would explain it
as meaning ' worthy of disapprobation ; ' or ' worthy of
blame ; ' or ' worthy of punishment.' ... 56
26. Reply to that attempted analysis, which would explain it
as meaning ' prohibited by the Creator.' ... 57
27. The same reasoning equally efficacious, against any other
attempted analysis. . . . . . . .61
28. That particular moral judgment, which we originally cited,
is intuitive and not inferential. .... 63
29. It is a legitimate intuition. ...... 64
30. The truth intued is a necessary truth. .... 67
31. Explanation of the term < Moral Truth.' ... 68
32. Remarks on the two classes of philosophers, who are op-
posed to our doctrine. ...... 69
SECTION III.
On the Relation between God and Moral Truth.
33. Subject of the ensuing Section. ..... 71
34. Relation between God and Moral Truth, according to our
doctrine. 72
35. Two positions, on which all Catholic philosophers, who
differ from our doctrine, would agree with each other. 76
36. First adverse theory considered. 'Morally evil means
freely prohibited by the Creator.' .... 77
37. Second adverse theory. ' Morally evil means necessarily
prohibited by the Creator.' ..... 78
38. Third adverse theory. 'Morally evil means necessarily
detested by the Creator.' 90
39. Fourth adverse theory. ' Morally evil means necessarily
detested by the One Necessary Being.' ... 93
40. Fifth adverse theory. * Morally evil means that which
separates us from our True End.' .... ib.
41. General argument against all these adverse theories. . 95
42. Can we say that Veracity and Benevolence are Perfections,
because God is what He is ? . ... 98
CONTENTS. xlix
PAGE
43. First objection considered. * You exalt an abstraction
above the Living God/ . . , . . .100
44. Second objection considered. * A creator who should love
mendacity and cruelty, would give us faculties which
regard those qualities as virtuous.' . . '•' . . 101
45. Third objection considered. ' Every obligation is con-
sidered by holy men as coming from God, and as part
of His free Providence.' ...... 102
46. Various modes in which our doctrine holds up God as the
One Object of undivided reverence. . . . 107
47. Distinction between « Dei Potentia Absoluta' and ' Ordinata.' 1 09
48*The Natural Rule and the Natural Law. . . .111
49*' Mala quia Prohibita,' and * Prohibita quia mala.' . . 107*
50*The truths of these Sections in their ontological order. . 108*
51*Conclusion of the Section. . 110*
SECTION V.
On the Idea of Moral Worthiness.
48. Instances in which men always say, that this act is more
worthy than that. . . . . . . .113
49. The idea 'moral worthiness' a simple idea. . . .114
50. Its connection with the idea of moral obligation. . .115
51. Extreme frequency of moral judgments. . . . .116
52. Enlarged sense of the phrase * Natural Rule.' . . .117
53. Different senses in which it may be asked, how far the
Natural Rule extends. . :=i*fc*-: .... ib.
SECTION VI.
On the Extent of the Natural Rule.
54. Justice, Veracity, and Benevolence, are intrinsecally good
ends of action. . . . . . .119
55. No good end of action may ever be contravened, except
for the sake of some other good end, which at the
moment conflicts with it. . . . . .122
56. No act is virtuous, unless done for the virtuousness of
some good end. .. . . .. . . . ib.
57. Distinction between objective and subjective virtuousness. 124
58. An act is subjectively better, caeteris paribus, in propor-
tion as the will adheres more firmly and efficaciously
to the virtuousness of a good end 125
59. What is meant by an Infinitely Holy Being ? . . ib.
60. Objection made against the proposition, that a Holy
Creator cannot deceive us ; and reply to that objec-
tion. ... . . * . . ,• . * . 126
d
1 CONTENTS.
PAGF
61. Virtuousness of those good acts which relate to God. . 127
62. How far will Reason shew, that Humility, Forgivingness,
and Purity, are virtuous ends of action ? . . .128
63. ' Production of the arc' principle. . . . ib.
64. The Moral Faculty 129
65. Process whereby our moral judgments increase in ac-
curacy. . . . . . . . .132
66. Position occupied respectively, by the Moral Faculty and
by the other intellectual faculties, in arriving at moral
truth. ... 135
67. The question, 'What are virtuous ends of action? 'is
immeasurably more important than any other moral
question. . . . . . . . .138
68. Reason shews that pride is sinful. . . . . .139
69. Reason shews that vindictiveness is sinful. . . .144
70. What are the various grounds, which justify infliction of
pain on our fellow-men? . . . . . .146
71. Is Forgivingness simply identical with Benevolence? . 147
72. Reason shews the virtuousness of Purity. . . . 148
73. Catalogue of virtuous ends recognised by Reason. . .149
74. Probable inference, from all that has been said, on the
Extent of the Natural Rule ; and harmony of this
inference with the dicta of theologians. . . .150
75. Objection to our whole doctrine answered. . . .152
76. Our principles add to the motives of credibility for Catho-
licism. ......... 153
77. Reasons for holding our doctrine, on the Moral Faculty
and its growth. . . . . . . .154
78. Substantial agreement of the principles put forth in this
Section, with those usually recognised by Catholics. 161
SECTION VII.
On God's Power of Interference with the Natural Rule.
79. Interference is of two kinds. . . . . . .165
80. God's Power of addition to the Natural Rule. . . ib.
81. God's Power of subtraction from the Natural Rule. . 166
82. Mutable part of the Natural Law 170
83. Immutable part of the Natural Law. . . . .171
84. Theologians cited in behalf of our doctrine. . . .175
85. How far can God, by His interference, affect the relative
moral worthiness of acts ? . . . . 187
86. Distinction between * intrinsic' and 'independent' obliga-
tion or moral worthiness. . . . . .188
87. Concluding remarks, on the matters treated in this whole
Chapter. % . . 190
CONTENTS.
li
PACK
CHAPTER II.
ON ETHICAL PSYCHOLOGY.
88. Explanation of the term. ... .192
SECTION I.
On the Threefold Classification of Mental Phenomena.
89. The soul is a simple substance. ... .195
90. We have no direct knowledge of that substance itself. . ib.
91. Its phenomena fall irresistibly under three classes. . . 196
92. Emotions in general .197
93. Propensions, and an important division of them. . . ib.
SECTION II.
On tjie Passions.
94. Explanation of the term 200
95. First six Passions enumerated by the scholastics. . .201
96. Supplementary remarks on these. ..... 202
97. Remaining five Passions enumerated by the scholastics. . 205
98. Criticism on this latter enumeration. .... 207
99. Proposed enumeration of the Passions. .... 209
SECTION III.
On the Relation between Will and Sensitive Appetite.
100. Act of Will, corresponding respectively to each Passion. 211
101. Name given to each act of Will 212
102. * Spes,' 'audacia,' 'delectatio voluntatis,' considered and
analyzed. Also 'envy' and ' ill-humour' of the Will,
and 'murmuring against God's Providence.' . . 213
103. 'Gaudium Voluntatis' and 'Delectatio Morosa.' . . 217
104. Acts of the Will are often elicited, without any correspond-
ing emotions. Caution with which this statement is
to be received. , . . . , . 220
105. ' Motus primo-primi' and ' secundb-primi.' . , . 222
106. 'Actus primo-primi' and ' secundo-primi.' . . 224
107. Power of the Will in resisting emotion. .... ib.
Hi CONTENTS.
SECTION IY.
On Certain other Phenomena of the Will.
PAGE
108. Subject of the Section 231
109. < In tentio finis.' ib.
110. 'Absolute end ;' 'Relative or intermediate ends.' . . 232
111. ' Unconscious intention,' either ' implicit ' or ' virtual.' . 233
112. A considerable number of actual ends are often simul-
taneously influential. ...... 235
113. ' In tentio finis ' is applied to a relative end, no less than to
an absolute. ........ 236
114. ' Habitual Intention.' Subdivision of this. , . . ib.
115. 'Intentio,' distinguished from 'Amor' and ' Desiderium.' 238
116. Acts of the Will are what they are, and not what we
reflect on them as being. ...... 239
117. < Bonum' defined 242
118. ' Bonum delectabile.' 243
119. ' Bonum honestum.' ....... 244
120. Unconscious intention of bonum honestum. . . . 246
121. No other 'bonum,' except 'honestum,' 'delectabile,' and
' utile.' • 248
SECTION V.
On the Adaptation of our Nature to Virtue.
123. Subject of the Section 250
124. First argument for our thesis. Virtue is pursued for its
own sake, but vice cannot possibly be so pursued. . ib.
125. Second argument for our thesis. ' Bonum honestum ' and
'delectabile,' as they are the only legitimate, so are
the only possible, ends of action. .... 251
126. Third argument. Moral judgments are so extremely
frequent with all men. . . . . . .251
127. Fourth argument. The pleasures of reflection are all on
the side of virtue. ....... ib.
128. Fifth argument stated. Our Propensions are the sole
occasion of sin; and yet there is not one of them,
which has not a real and legitimate place in leading
us to virtue. ........ 252
129. Most important place held by pleasure, in helping us to-
wards virtue. ........ 254
130. Immense benefits of sensible devotion. .... 257
131. Individual propensions examined. Propension of Duty . 259
CONTENTS. liii
PAGE
132. Propension of Self- Charity. . . . 260
133. Propension of Personal Love 261
134. The passion 'Amor,' distinguished both from 'Amor
Benevolentiae,' and ' Amor Concupiscentiae.' . . 265
135. Singular assistance given by this Propension, to growth in
love of God. . 266
136. Propension of General Love for mankind. . . . 274
137. Propension of Compassion. ...... 276
138. Propension of Gratitude. . ... 278
139. State of the argument considered. . . . . ib.
140. Love of Honour considered. ...... 279
141. Love of Power 283
142. Love of Money 284
143. Love of Intellectual Exertion 289
144. Resentment 297
145. Love of the Marvellous. . . .... 311
146. Objection to the statements ofn. 144, answered by help
of this latter Propension. . ..... 312
147. Emulation perverted into Envy. . . . . .314
148. Love of Self-assertion perverted into Pride. . . .315
149. List of the Propensions already enumerated. . . . 324
150. What are those Propensions respectively useful for our
duties, (1) towards the Invisible World ; (2) towards
our own interior; and (3) towards our fellow-men ? . 325
151. Protestants, in proportion as they are 'formally' such,
practically deny, that God can be a satisfying Object
to our higher Propensions. This view stated and
examined. ........ 329
149.* As men grow in perfection, it is not that new Propensions
spring up within them, but that the Propensions,
implanted by God in their nature, are fixed on new
Objects 347
150.* On the Bodily Propensions 350
151.* On the Love of Beauty 355
152. Sixth argument for our Thesis. The ex-regarding Pro-
pensions are fully as powerful as the self-regarding. . 359
153. Seventh argument. Peace obtained, by the rest of our
most powerful and pervasive Propensions, in the
thought of God 361
154. How far are virtue and earthly happiness ordinarily co-
incident? 363
155. How far does our earthly happiness consist, in our
prospect of Future Bliss ? 373
156. Eighth argument for our Thesis. None of our most power-
ful and pervasive Propensions can possibly come into
closer contact with earthly objects, than they may
with heavenly ........ 376
By some mistake nn. 149-151 have been repeated.
Hv CONTENTS.
SECTION VI.
On the Marks of Moral Degradation in our Nature as it now exists.
PAGE
157. Existence of evil an utterly insoluble difficulty. • 381
158. Testified by experience. ...... ib.
159. The difficulty has not been lessened by Revelation. . . 383
160. Our nature, as it now exists, is far more powerful in the
wrong, than in the right, direction. .... 384
161. Our Will is far weaker in its aim at virtue, than at
pleasure. 385
162. Our Will is most wayward and capricious, in its aim at
virtue 387
163. The Propension of the Flesh seems to have received a
most morbid intensity. ...... 389
164. Connection of this with the dogma of Original Sin. . 390
SECTION VII.
On Certain Philosophical Terms.
165. On the term c Nature,' as applied to an individual. . . 392
166. On the term * Nature,' as applied to a species. . . 397
167. On the terms 'species sensibilis,' ' species intelligibilis,'
' phantasia,' &c. &c. 399
CHAPTER III.
ON SELF-CHARITY.
168. General account of the question at issue on this subject
between Bossuet and Fenelon. 402
CONTENTS.
Iv
SECTION I.
On Mans Desire of Felicity.
1 69. Statement of the felicity-thesis, as advocated by Bossuet. . 404
170. This thesis opposed to Theology, Reason, and Expe-
rience 406
171. There is no one absolute end of human action. The
argument, brought from authority against this state-
ment, carefully considered. ..... 409
SECTION II.
On the Claims of Self- Chanty.
172. How far are we under the moral obligation of aiming at
felicity? . . . . . . . .419
173. First Principle. It is metaphysically impossible, that
what is morally obligatory shall be otherwise than
conducive to our permanent happiness. . . . ib.
174. Second Principle. It is metaphysically impossible, that
one course of conduct shall be more morally worthy
than another, without being also more conducive to
our permanent happiness. ..... 420
175. Third Principle. Self-Charity is a virtuous end of action. ib.
1 76. Fourth Principle. If I aim at my own permanent hap-
piness, yet not for the virtuousness of so doing, still
the movement of my will on the whole is good. . 422
CHAPTER IV.
ON THE VARIOUS KINDS OF CERTAINTY AND IMPOSSIBILITY.
177. Things may be certain objectively or subjectively. First
of subjective certainty. ...... 424
178. Experimental certainty. ...... ib.
179. Fundamental certainty 425
Ivi CONTENTS.
PAGE
180. Metaphysical certainty. ....... ib.
181. Physical certainty. ....... ib.
182. Moral certainty. . 426
183. Objective a priori certainty 427
184. Impossibility ; metaphysical, physical, and moral. . . 428
SUPPLEMENTARY SECTION.
BEING SECTION 4TH OF CHAPTER FIRST.
Catholic Authority on Independent Morality.
185. No Catholic can hold that Moral Obligation flows from
God's free Command 429
186. The condemnation of two certain propositions, cited in
opposition to the theory, that obligation flows entirely
from His Necessary Command. . . . .431
187. Spiritual Exercises of S. Ignatius cited. . . . ib.
188. Suarez. 432
189. Vasquez 440
190. Lessius 441
191. Lugo. . 442
192. 'Plures ex antiquioribus et recentioribus,' adduced by
Lugo. ......... 444
193. Salas, adduced by. Lugo . . . . . ib.
194. Gregory and Gabriel, adduced by Lugo. . . . ib.
195. General views of theologians, as adduced by Lugo. . 445
196. Coninck, quoted textually by Lugo. .... ib.
197. Bellarmine cited. ........ ib.
198. Compton Carleton. ....... ib.
199. Berti 448
200. Frassen 449
201. Consideration of the condemned proposition on Philo-
sophical Sin. ........ 450
202. Viva's doctrine stated and opposed. . . . . 457
203. Gerdil cited in our favour. ...... 462
204. < Praelectiones Philosophic^.' 473
205. Solimani 474
206. Dmowski . . 477
207. ' Philosophia Lugdunensis.' ...... 479
208. Noget-Lacoudre. . . . . . . ib.
209. Chastel 481
210. Theologians cited, who hold that the idea 'morally good'
does not contain that of any relation to God. . . 483
211. Philosophers cited to the same effect 488
212. Conclusion of the Section. 489
BOOK FIRST.
PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
BOOK FIRST.
PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
I AM not professing, as you are well aware, to carry
you through a regular course of Philosophy. I only
wish to give you a full and complete grasp of certain
great philosophical principles, which are essential to
our subsequent theological course. We are not there-
fore to be considered here as occupied with Philosophy
for its own sake, but simply as an introduction to
Dogmatic Theology.
We are met at starting by a great disadvantage,
under which many other scientific courses also lie.
It would be greatly desirable if the earlier part of our
work could be rendered comparatively clear and easy;
for by such means an interest might be excited in the
study, and an ardour be stimulated for its prosecution,
which would greatly animate and encourage you, in
encountering any unavoidable difficulty which meets
us in our path. It happens however most unfortun-
ately, that the chief difficulties occur at the very outset ;
they occur before you have had any opportunity of
tasting the sweets (as I may say) of theological science,
and of appreciating, even in a moderate degree, those
most beautiful and attractive Objects, which it opens to
our contemplation. For we must begin by the establish-
ment of abstract principles ; and to master abstract
4 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
principles, is necessarily among the most laborious and
ungrateful tasks in the world. I can only earnestly
exhort you, to take that on faith, which you have as
yet had no means of knowing by experience. I can
only exhort you to believe, on the word of others, that
whatever amount of discouraging and repulsive labour
may meet you at the outset, the prize for which that
labour is to be encountered, — I mean the mastery of
dogmatical truth, — is so great and precious a treasure,
as most abundantly and superabundantly to recompense
you for all preliminary toil.
It will cost you then, I think, much more trouble
to master the first Chapter of the first Book, than to
apprehend any subsequent part of the entire study ;
and it will give you much more trouble to master the
first Section of that Chapter, than any subsequent por-
tion. In regard indeed to the first Section, I beg you
to pass and repass carefully in your mind the various
statements therein contained, so as fully and familiarly
to grasp them, before you attempt any study of the
subsequent sections.
On my part, I will do all in my power to save you
unnecessary trouble ; and I will state what I have to
say, in the clearest and most intelligible language I can
command. I heartily wish I had more power than (I
know) belongs to me, of putting abstruse and recondite
matter into an easy and familiar shape.
CHAPTER I.
ON THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY.
SECTION I.
On Intuitions and on the Principle of Certitude.
1. I MUST begin by begging your particular attention
to a distinction, which seems to me very important,
between two different classes of intellectual acts. I
will call them respectively Judgments of Consciousness
and Judgments of Intuition. And now to explain the
meaning of this distinction.
I form tbe judgment, that I am this moment suffer-
ing the sensation which we call cold. This is simply
a judgment of consciousness: I reflect on the fact, that
I am at this moment affected in a certain way ; the
judgment begins there and ends there. Again, I form
the judgment, that I am suffering under that which we
call low spirits ; or that I am out of humour ; or the
like. These are all judgments of consciousness ; the
mind's reflection on its own actually present experience.
But now suppose I remember, that half an hour ago
I endured the sensation of cold. Here first there is, or
may be, a judgment of consciousness ; I may reflect on
the impression which is now in my mind, that the past
fact was so. But there is another judgment of far
greater importance, which I also confidently form, and
which we may call a judgment of intuition or an intui-
tive judgment. I may judge confidently indeed, that I
have the present impression of having undergone that
6 PHILOSOPHICAL INTKODUCTIOtf.
sensation ; but this is not all. I confidently form an-
other judgment also : viz. that the sensation was under-
gone ; that I actually did feel cold, at the time to which
my thoughts refer. Moreover I regard this truth, not
as known to me hy way of consequence or deduction
from other truths ; but as known to me immediately
and in itself. Such a judgment we may call a judg-
ment of intuition : a judgment, which on the one hand
is quite distinct from the mind's reflection on its own
present consciousness ; and which on the other hand is
quite distinct also, from a judgment arising in my mind
in the way of consequence from other judgments.
As our second illustration of an intuitive judgment,
let us take our various acts of belief in the validity
of reasoning. A well-instructed thinker follows some
chain of demonstrative reasoning, and forms the fol-
lowing judgment without the faintest shadow of doubt:
c if the various premisses are true, the various conclu-
sions, here deduced from those premisses, are most cer-
tainly true also.' He does not elicit merely a judgment
of consciousness: i I am impressed with the idea that
these conclusions are true, if the premisses are true ; I
am so constituted that I cannot help thinking this to be
so.' No ; he forms also an intuitive judgment. It is
not merely ' I cannot help feeling as if the conclusions
followed from the premisses,' but ' I see for certain that
they do so follow.'
As a third instance, let us take mathematical
axioms. ' A rectilineal figure of three sides has neither
more nor less than three angles.' So soon as I under-
stand the meaning of this proposition; — so soon as I
can produce in my mind the representation of a three-
sided figure, and have a moment's leisure for reflection ;
— I judge at once that this proposition is quite cer-
tainly true. I never think of confining myself to a
subjective judgment ; ' I am so constituted that I
cannot help thinking the proposition is true :' no ;
the judgment which I form is objective; 'the propo-
sition is true.'
As a fourth instance, let us take our belief in an
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLES OF CERTITUDE. 7
external world. The great mass of men never think
of confining themselves to a mere judgment of con-
sciousness on this matter ; ' I am impressed as if there
were external objects :' they always form an intuitive
judgment, ' there are external objects.' It is well
known that certain philosophers have existed, who
deny that there are grounds for any such judgment.
But it is no part of our business here to consider
the arguments of these philosophers ; for we are not
here considering how far these intuitive judgments are
true, but explaining what is meant by an intuitive
judgment. I say then, the great mass of men (rightly
or wrongly) do, as a matter of fact, elicit the intuitive
judgment, * external objects exist/ •
Such then are intuitive judgments, in the sense
which we shall consistently assign to that word.
They are judgments, which I do not hold as being
inferred in any way from other judgments, but as
immediately evident. Yet on the other hand they are
totally distinct from what we call judgments of con-
sciousness ; or, in other words, from the various reflec-
tions made by my mind upon its actually present ex-
perience. Many of the judgments, which we thus form,
are true ; many are false : but, whether true or false,
I will equally call them judgments of intuition, if they
are immediate judgments, and yet not judgments of
consciousness.
2. We must carefully distinguish however these
intuitive judgments, from another numerous class
which on the surface resemble them. There are very
many judgments, which appear to be formed imme-
diately ; in forming which, the mind does not reflect
on any premisses from which they result ; but which
nevertheless are in fact formed as conclusions from
premisses. For instance. An experienced farmer goes
into a corn-field, and says to himself, on looking around,
4 in what excellent condition and how abundant is this
corn!' Yet this judgment, though so spontaneously
formed, is in fact not elicited as immediately evident; it
is elicited as a conclusion, resulting in part from various
8 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
judgments which already existed in his mind. These
judgments will be such as the following.
(1.) c I remember a number of fields, in which the
corn was in very good condition.'
(2.) ' These fields all agreed in certain charac-
teristic marks.'
(3.) 'If certain marks prove one corn-field to be in
a good state, marks precisely similar must prove another
to be so.'
To these judgments, with which he was already
familiar, one intuitive judgment is added, which he now
elicits for the first time. ' There are in this field the
same marks, which everywhere characterise a good con-
dition of corn.'
All these various judgments go to make up the
grounds, for his opinion on the corn-field before him.
Most of them indeed are so familiar to him, and they
are all formed so readily and inevitably, that he does
not reflect upon them at all, and is inclined to fancy
his judgment to be immediate. Yet it is manifest
on a moment's consideration, that unless every one of
the preceding judgments had passed through his mind,
he could not by possibility have formed the original
opinion which he did form. That opinion was in
fact the conclusion resulting from a certain logical
process ; and that process was built upon these respec-
tive judgments, as among the premisses on which
it rested. Let his belief be shaken in any one of
these judgments, his opinion on the healthy state
of the corn-field before him must at once fall to the
ground.*
* One or two readers, I find, have doubted whether such opinions as
the above are really inferential. There cannot, I think, be any kind of
reasonable doubt that they are so, and philosophers (I believe) universally
hold this. But it is no part of my province to contend for this statement ;
for my arguments in the next Section would be but strengthened if it were
denied. It is a very important proposition, advocated by me in the next
Section, that 'moral judgments,' are 'intuitive.' I am obliged however
to admit, that the mere fact of their appearing immediate is no sufficient
proof of this ; because (as I here state) many inferential judgments appear
intuitive. If this were denied, my arguments in the next Section would
but proceed moreseasily and flowingly.
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 9
On the other hand take a really intuitive judgment :
— for instance, 4I recently experienced the sensation of
cold/ It is plain that I hold this, not as the conclusion
of any logical process whatever ; — not as depending on
any judgment, whether reflected on or not; — but in the
strictest sense as an immediate conviction.
If our direct theme were Philosophy, it might be
desirable to proceed at greater length, in illustrating
this distinction ; but under our present circumstances,
thus to have indicated it will suffice.
3. When we have sufficiently mastered the distinc-
tion between the two kinds of immediate judgments, —
Judgments of Consciousness and Judgments of Intui-
tion,— we shall be able to understand wherein philoso-
phical scepticism precisely consists. The only thesis,
which expresses this theory with perfect consistency, is
the following : — c We are unable to know with certainty
anything whatever, beyond the facts of our actually
present consciousness ; because no intuitive judgment
can possibly carry with it its own evidence of truth.'
A thinker of this class may be imagined, with a cer-
tain superficial consistency, to argue as follows : — ' There
4 can be no possible ground for holding any intuitive
' judgments ; and the mass of men, in confidently holding
4 them, are simply unreasonable. Take for instance the
4 case of memory ; — what imaginable reason canlhavefor
4 supposing, that those various impressions, which I call
4 acts of remembrance, correspond to real facts of my
4 past history ? How can I know, for instance, that I
4 have not been formed by some malignant being, who
4 has given me mendacious faculties for the very pur-
6 pose of deceiving me ? How can I know but that
4 this being makes me fancy I w^as cold e.g. a short
4 time ago, when I was really experiencing some totally
4 different sensation ? But this supposition indeed, —
4 the supposition of a malignant creator, — is only one,
4 out of a hundred which might be made; each one at
* variance with the belief, that my memory can be
6 trusted. Surely I can have no more real ground for
' believing, that I have actually gone through those
10 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
4 various experiences, of which my memory presents
6 the impression, than a madman has for imagining
4 himself to be Csesar or Alexander the Great. * In
c like manner, what possible ground have I for believing
4 that the conclusion of a syllogism really follows from
4 its premisses ? or again, that a rectilineal figure of
4 three sides has three angles? No doubt, I feel as if
4 these propositions were true ; I cannot help thinking
6 that they are true ; but what possible warrant have I
4 for inferring, from my own intellectual impotence,f
4 the truth of an objective and external fact ? I must
' remain then for ever, in a state of utter and hopeless
4 ignorance of everything, beyond the actually present
4 phenomena of self. I must remain, shut up (as it
4 were) within the region of present consciousness.'
4. Now in order to the true refutation of scepticism,
we must beyond question deny its premiss : we must
assert most confidently, in opposition to its theory,
that certain intuitive judgments do carry with them
their own evidence. Various thinkers however have,
at various periods, taken a different course. These
philosophers have admitted the sceptic's premiss, but
joined issue with his conclusion. They have admitted
* " Une autre consequence egalement juste" (from that doctrine of scep-
ticism which the author is opposing), " est que nous n'avons aucune certitude
Gvidente de ce qu'hier il nous arriva ou ne nous arriva pas ; et meme si nous
existions ou si nous n'existions pas. Je crois bien etre evidemment
certain qu'hier j'6tais au monde ; mais c'est un jugement qui pent se
trouver sujet d erreur, selon les philosophes dont nous parlous. Car, selon
eux, je ne puis avoir d'evidence que par une perception intime qui est
toujours actuelle ; or, actuellement, j'ai bien la perception du souvenir de
ce qui m' arriva hier ; mais ce souvenir n'est qu'une perception intime de ce
que je pense presentement, c'est-a-dire d'une pensee actuelle, laquelle n'est
pas la meme chose que ce qui se passa hier et qui n'est plus aujourd'hui.
Par la m6me raison, je serai encore moins certain si je ue suis par en ce
monde depuis deux ou troismille ans, et si je n'ai point anim6 le corps d'un
crocodile ou d'un moineau. II est tres-evident que je n'en ai aucune
memoire ; mais tout cela s'est pu faire, sans que je m'en souvienne actuelle-
ment ; comme il arrive effectivement que chacun de nous est demeure
plusieurs mois dans le sein de sa mere, sans en avoir conserve le moindre
souvenir. Ce manque de memoire n'est done pas une certitude evidente,
centre ce qu'on voudrait supposer de I'anciennet6 de mon existence, et des
situations differentes ou je me serais trouve" dans le systeme de la
metempsy chose." — Burner, (Euvres Philosophiques, chap. iii. s. 20.
t This excellent phrase, ' intellectual impotence,' was used by an able
writer signing himself M. in the ' Rambler' of September 1859.
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 11
that no intuitive judgment can carry with it its own
evidence ; but to avoid the sceptic's inference on man's
dense and utter ignorance, they have looked in other
directions for proof of the trustworthiness of certain
intuitions. They have maintained accordingly, that
various intuitive judgments may be proved legitimate,
by means of some prior self-evident truth. As these
philosophers admit the sceptic's premiss, I may be per-
mitted to call them semi-sceptics ; and I maintain that
nothing can be more complete in itself,* than the reply,
put forth by the more consistent sceptic, against any
such attempt at compromise.
The semi-sceptic then professes to prove the trust-
worthiness of certain intuitive judgments, by this or
that course of argument. But this very fact, — viz. that
he does appeal to argument, — furnishes his opponent
with a triumphant retort. How do we believe that
reasoning, in its most rigorous form, is really valid ?
Evidently by an intuitive judgment. ' What can be
4 more illogical,' then the more consistent sceptic may
proceed, * than your whole procedure ? You profess
to prove that there are some intuitive judgments which
may be trusted ; and in every step of your proof you
assume that there are some which may be trusted :
for the very profession of argument implies that pre-
cise assumption.'
So much then on the mere fact that arguments are
used against him at all. Let us next see the answers
which are ready to his hand, in reply to the particular
arguments which have been chiefly attempted. Thus
Des Cartes puts the very hypothesis, which we have
supposed the sceptic to make ; viz. that we may have
been formed by some malignant being, who has implanted
mendacious faculties for the very purpose of deceiving
us. Des Cartes meets this difficulty, by setting himself
to prove the existence of a Holy God ; and from this, as
from a fundamental truth, he deduces the proposition,
* I say ' in itself :' because of course in a sceptic, the use of any reason-
ing implies self-contradiction.
12 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
that we may most reasonably trust those faculties which
He has implanted.* But how obvious is the sceptic's
reply. 4 Either you believe in God's Existence by an
' immediate judgment of intuition, or you believe in it
c as in a truth deduced from a chain of reasoning. In
' the former case, you take For granted the legitimacy
4 of that intuitive judgment ; in the latter case you take
' for granted the validity of reasoning. In either case
' you assume the precise proposition, which you under-
* take to prove ; viz. that there are trustworthy judg-
' ments of intuition/ Here again the argument is in
itself irresistible.
Another mode of reasoning against the sceptic was
devised by the unhappy La Mennais. He says : c We
* may derive confidence in various intuitive judgments,
' from the fact that all mankind agree, arid cannot but
' agree, in forming them.'
* My authority for this statement is Reid. His whole passage is worth
considering.
' Des Cartes certainly made a false step in this matter ; for having
suggested this doubt among others — that, whatever evidence he might
have for his consciousness, his senses, his memory, or his reason, yet
possibly some malignant being had given him those faculties on 'purpose to
impose upon him ; and, therefore, that they are not to be trusted without
a proper voucher ; — to remove this doubt, he endeavours to prove the being
of a Deity who is no deceiver ; whence he concludes, that the faculties He
had given him are true and worthy to be trusted.
'It is strange that so acute a reasoner did not perceive that in this
reasoning there is evidently a begging of the question.
' For, if our faculties be fallacious, why may they not deceive us in this
reasoning as well as in others ? and, if they are to be trusted in this
instance without a voucher, why not in others ?
1 Every kind of reasoning for the veracity of our faculties, amounts to
no more than taking their own testimony for their veracity ; and this we
must do implicitly, until God gives us new faculties to sit in judgment upon
the old. And the reason why Des Cartes satisfied himself with so weak an
argument for the truth of his faculties, most probably was, that he never
seriously doubted of it.
' If any truth can be said to be prior to all others in the order of nature,
this seems to have the best claim; because, in every instance of assent,
whether upon intuitive, demonstrative, or probable evidence, the truth of
our faculties is taken for granted, and is, as it were, one of the premisses on
which our assent is grounded. How then come we to be assured of this
fundamental truth, on which all others rest ? Perhaps evidence, as in many
other respects it resembles light, so in this also — that, as light, which is
the discoverer of all visible objects, discovers itself at the same time, so
evidence, which is the voucher of all truth, vouches for itself at the same
time.
' This however is certain, that such is the constitution of the human
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 13
But the sceptic's answer here is in itself no less
triumphant than in the former cases. 4 Unless you as-
4 sume that certain intuitive judgments may be trusted,
6 you can have no knowledge whatever of the fact that
' men do agree in trusting them : you cannot under-
' stand the very meaning of a single sentence which is
4 uttered by your fellow-men ; nay, you cannot so much
4 as apprehend its external bodily sound. I say, you
' cannot so much as apprehend the very sound, of which
c a spoken sentence is composed, unless you assume
4 that certain intuitive judgments may be trusted. You
* are hearing at this moment the last word of the sen-
4 tence ; but how do you know the other words of which
4 it consists ? Simply by remembering them : either
4 then you must trust that kind of intuitive judgment
4 which we call an act of memory, or else you cannot
' apprehend the very sound of which a spoken sentence
4 is composed. And as for the meaning of such sentence,
4 it is still more manifest that various exercises of me-
mind, that evidence, discerned by us, forces a corresponding degree of assent.
And a man who perfectly understood a just syllogism, without believing
that the conclusion follows from the premisses, would be a greater monster
than a man born without hands or feet.
' We are born under a necessity of trusting to our reasoning and judging
powers ; and a real belief of their being fallacious cannot be maintained for
any considerable time by the greatest sceptic, because it is doing violence
to our constitution. It is like a man's walking upon his hands : a feat which
some men, upon occasion, can exhibit ; but no man ever made a long
journey in this manner. Cease to admire his dexterity, and he will, like
other men, betake himself to his legs.' — Reid's Inquiry, Essay vi. Chap. v.
Gioberti quotes the following passage from Jouffroy, which may also be
cited in illustration :
1 Quand une faculte vient a s'appliquer et a nous donner la notion qui
lui est propre, il est evident que nous ne croyons et ne pouvons croire a la
verite de cette notion, qu'a une premiere condition ; c'est que nous avons
foi a la veracite native de cette faculte car pour peu que nous en
doutions, il ii'y a plus de verite, plus de croyance, possible pour nous. Et
cependant rien ne prouve, rien ne peut prouver, cette veracite native de
DOS facultes Done, messieurs, le principe de tout certitude et de
toute croyance est d'abord un acte de foi aveugle en la veracite naturelle
de nos facultes.' — Cours de Droit Naturel.
I find this passage quoted in M. Alary' s French translation of Gioberti's
" Introduction to Philosophy, vol. ii. note 33, p. 362." I suppose I need
hardly add, that I am very far from agreeing with it. I maintain, as will
be seen, that the ' natural veracity of our faculties' is a truth, in no way
resting upon ' blind faith,' but brought home to us with perfect evidence by
a most clear light.
14 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
4 mory are requisite, in order that you may ever so
' distantly guess it.'
5. It is very curious to see how completely a sceptic
overreaches himself, if he set himself thus frankly and
energetically to carry out his principles. For the
sceptic's argument, above stated, lands us in this con-
clusion:— that we cannot begin listening to his objec-
tions, we cannot so much as know that there is such
a doctrine as scepticism in the world, until we have
first committed ourselves to its denial; until we have
taken for granted that precise thesis, which scepticism
rejects. Unless I can trust my various acts of memory,
I don't even know what the sceptic says, much less what
he means. But if I can trust these acts of memory, then
certain intuitive judgments may with reason be con-
fidently formed ; which is the very point at issue
between him and myself.
Here then we fully see the truth of what sound
philosophers continually say ; viz. that to attempt argu-
ment against scepticism is a simple absurdity. I cannot
know what the sceptic says, until I have elicited con-
fidently various acts of memory ; i.e. have trusted one
class of intuitive judgments : and I cannot argue against
what he says, until I have trusted another. For to
argue implies a belief in the validity of those processes
of reasoning which I adduce ; and what can such a belief
possibly be, except one or more intuitive judgments ?
Yet let this be most carefully observed. While on
the one hand it is a simple absurdity to argue against
scepticism, on the other hand to hold sceptical opinions
in their full consistency, is not less than physically
impossible. As a first proof of this take the following.
I have just said, that until we have committed ourselves
to anti- sceptical opinions, we cannot even listen to the
arguments brought against them. The converse is
equally true. The sceptic complains that men in
general most unreasonably trust their intuitive judg-
ments. Now consider this most noteworthy circum-
stance : he cannot know, or have the most distant idea,
that the fact is so, until he has himself followed their
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 15
example; until he has trusted at least one class of
intuitive judgments, viz. various acts of memory.
Unless he first trust those acts, he cannot so much
as guess at the opinion of his fellow-men on any single
particular (see n. 4). Now I ask, has he really the
physical power of doubting in many cases what their
opinion is?
For another instance, the story told of Pyrrho is
well known. He was lecturing to his disciples, it is
said, on the inability of our faculties to apprehend
truth ; when a waggon suddenly came rushing down
the hill, and the sceptical philosopher was the first who
took to flight. We may ask, — had he so much as the
physical power at that moment, really to distrust that
faculty of memory, through which alone he had the
means of so much as guessing, that he was in any
danger at all ? evidently not. So in like manner, let
any one of us try to regard it as really doubtful, whether
he was experiencing a minute ago what his memory
declared him to have been experiencing ; — let any one
try to do this, and he will see readily the truth of my
remark, that the task is physically impossible. He can
no more compel himself really to doubt that he was ex-
periencing those sensations or those thoughts which he
distinctly remembers, — in other words, he can no more
prevent himself from holding a certain intuitive judg-
ment with the most undoubting confidence, — than he
can raise himself into the air and fly to the top of a tree.
6. We have arrived, then, at two vitally important
results. (1.) If we once admit the sceptic's premiss,
— viz. that no intuitive judgment can carry with it its
own evidence, — we are most irresistibly brought to his
conclusion, that no such judgments are trustworthy at
all. (2.) This conclusion is such, that no human being
has so much as the physical power really to believe it. I
would say this to the professing sceptic : — take the dearest
and oldest friend you have in the world ; either maintain
that you have not the means even of guessing that you
ever saw him before in your life, or else admit that
your whole scheme is a delusion and a mockery.
16 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
7. At the same time I fully admit, that the sceptic's
doubts need not, in consistency, extend to what I have
called (n. 1) Judgments of Consciousness. Such judg-
ments, in fact, amount to no more than this; "my
present feeling is what I now feel it to be:'' and the
truth of such judgments as these would not certainly
be questioned, by the most consistent advocate (if such
a person could be found) of philosophical scepticism.
Put even the impossible case supposed by Des Cartes ;
put the case, that I had been created by some malignant
being, who has given me mendacious faculties for the
very purpose of deceiving me. Well : even such a
being as this could not make me imagine, that my
present feeling is not what I now feel it to be.
We need not, however, enlarge on this proposition :
there are two reasons why we need not do so. Firstly,
it is one of those propositions, which are in themselves so
clear, that their luminousness is obscured, not intensified,
by amplification and expansion. Secondly, so far is
this proposition from being essential to my argument,
that, on the contrary, my argument would be even (if
possible) increased in strength, were I able to deny it.
My argument, I say, would be even increased in strength,
were I able to affirm, that the sceptic is called upon by
his principles to deny the facts of actually present
consciousness. He is not, however, so called upon ;
and it may suffice, once for all, thus to have fairly
stated what is certainly undeniable.
8. I have been led thus to enlarge on the sceptical
position, for this reason among others. There are two
false principles, in extreme antagonism to each other,
against which the Catholic philosopher has specially to
guard ; because they are far more prominent and pervasive,
than any other philosophical errors which can be named.
They are the Scylla and Charybdis, between which the
bark of true Philosophy must direct its course. The
one of these is Scepticism, the other Rationalism. But
there is this most remarkable difference between the
two errors. Rationalism can be most abundantly re-
futed on its own chosen ground, — the ground of Reason.
ON INTUITIONS AND THE P1UNCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 17
If the orthodox combatant be at all equally matched
with the rationalist, the latter's signal overthrow is
quite certain. But the case is very different, where
scepticism is our opponent ; for when we have to assail
it, our very weapons of offence fall from our paralyzed
hands. We set out to refute it on grounds of Reason :
but we are at once reminded, that we are simply begging
the question at issue ; and that the very point to be
determined is, c Can Reason be legitimately trusted?'
Scepticism, then, is a far more destructive and
desolating error, even than its extreme opposite. It
represents all knowledge of Truth, great or little, as
simply impossible ; it corrupts Philosophy at its very
source. Our very first philosophical enterprise must
be the overthrow of that error, which (once admitted)
would render all thought and all knowledge impossible.
Yet, against such a doctrine, or rather such a
negation of all possible doctrine, what is to be done ?
Reason against it we can not; for to reason (as the
more consistent sceptic urges) is to assume the whole
question at issue. It will be found however that we
can accomplish, what will be amply sufficient in practice
to overthrow the error.
Firstly, we, who are not sceptics in any sense, — we,
who deny the sceptic's premiss as well as his conclusion,
— may communicate with each other, and make our
combined observation on the enemy. We remark to
each other, that it is physically impossible for any
human being to carry out consistently the sceptical
principle ; and that every professing sceptic is (by
consequence) in a simply self-contradictory position.
Secondly, there are great numbers of thinking men,
who are more or less deeply infected with the sceptical
poison, — some indeed to a very considerable extent. —
who yet by no means carry their principles to the
length of distrusting their reasoning faculty. Indeed,
total distrust of the reasoning faculty, is one of those
sceptical demonstrations which are not less than phy-
sically impossible. Those men therefore, who will
18 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
admit reasoning at all, may be addressed by means of
reasoning. We can bring them face to face with the
full meaning of their position. We can labour at
oringing home to their reason, and again to their
imagination, the extent of that pitiable and debasing
ignorance, which is the only consistent result attainable
in that position. We can deter them from unwarily
acquiescing in some among the less monstrous
exhibitions of the sceptical principle, by showing them
what that principle is, in its only full and consistent
development.
Thirdly, we can trace back this whole principle to
the primary argumentative source from which it results.
This I consider that wre have already done in the
present Section. We have taken one particular pre-
miss; viz. ' it is impossible that any intuitive judgment
4 can carry with it its own evidence of truth : ' and we
have shown, that this premiss leads by legitimate con-
sequence to the full-length sceptical whole. The
sceptical premiss, I say, leads to the sceptical conclusion,
by logic so absolutely clear and irresistible, that no one,
who admits the validity of reasoning at all, can possibly
deny the necessary connexion of the two.
9. We may very suitably, therefore, designate the con-
tradictory of this premiss, as the Principle of Certitude.
In other words, the Principle of Certitude will be this
proposition : c it is fully possible that intuitive judgments
' may carry with them their own evidence of truth.'
And this proposition may well be called the Principle
of Certitude ; because, unless we confidently maintain it,
it will be impossible consistently to recognise the
certainty (or even approximation to certainty) of any
one thing, beyond our actually present experience. If
this principle were untrue, our knowledge would be
less than that of the brutes ; it would be strictly con-
fined to the mind's reflection at each instant on its own
existing consciousness. We could not compare e.g.
our present consciousness with our past ; for unless the
Principle of Certitude were true, we could not even
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 19
guess what our past consciousness lias been. Much less,
as is evident, could we even contemplate comparing our
own consciousness with that of others.
To ask for proof of this principle, is manifestly
illogical. If certain intuitions carry with them their
own evidence of truth, that evidence is our reasonable
ground for accepting them as true. We may then
proceed to reflect on the fact, that we do thus legiti-
mately hold various intuitive judgments on their own
evidence ; and this reflection is in itself an assertion of
the principle before us. The only further question,
which you can reasonably ask, is 4 what is the nature of
* that evidence on which these intuitions rest?' and of
that we will expressly speak before we close the Section.
This then is our direct and appropriate proof: yet we
are able (as has been seen) to give, over and above, an
indirect demonstration of our principle, founded on the
manifestly false consequences which would result from
its denial. We can give such a demonstration, I say, to
all who admit that there can be such a thing in rerum
naturd as a demonstration. I would reply as follows
to the sceptic. If you deny the legitimacy of reasoning,
you commit a simple absurdity in asking for a proof at
all. But if you admit the validity of proof at all, I offer
you the strongest possible proof of our principle, in the
shape of a ' reductio ad absurdum.' If our principle be
not true, you have no ground for trusting e.g. the
simplest and most obvious act of memory ; you have
no ground for knowing, that you ever saw in your life
that person, who is your dearest and most intimate
friend. But this is a conclusion so undeniajbly false,
that no human being has so much as the physical power
of believing it. Hence the premiss, from which the con-
clusion resulted, is also false ; and our principle, being
the contradictory of that premiss, is undeniably true.
10. It may plausibly be objected then : ' if no one
* has the physical power of consistently questioning the
4 Principle of Certitude, where is the importance of thus
1 laboriously presenting and illustrating it?' I reply, it
is true indeed that no human being can consistently
20 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
question it ; i. e. can really believe those propositions,
which inevitably result from its denial. Still, though this
be so, many philosophers have denied it partially and
inconsistently: i.e. they have denied it in itself, though
they have refrained from carrying that denial to its
legitimate consequences. And as the first instance of
my statement, strangely enough, I can cite one among
the most eminent and most sober English philosophers
of the present day — Mr. Mansel.
Take for instance the following passage from his
"Prolegomena Logica:" —
" It may be indeed, that the condition of possible thought cor-
respond to conditions of possible being ; that what is to us incon-
ceivable is in itself non-existent. But of this, from the nature of
the case, it is impossible to have any evidence. If man as a thinker
is subject to necessary laws, he cannot examine the absolute
validity of the laws themselves, except by assuming the whole
question at issue ; for such examination must itself be conducted
in subordination to the same conditions. Whatever weakness,
therefore, there may be in the object of criticism, the same must
necessarily affect the critical process itself.
" We may indeed believe, and ought to believe, that the powers
which our Creator has bestowed upon us are not given as the instru-
ments of deception. We may believe, and ought to believe, that,
intellectually no less than morally, the present life is a state of
discipline and preparation for another ; and that the portion of
knowledge which our limited faculties are permitted to attain to
here may, indeed, in the eyes of a higher Intelligence, be but
partial truth, but cannot be absolute falsehood. But in believing
thus, we desert the evidence of Reason to rest on that of Faith ; and
of the principles on which Reason itself depends, it is obviously impos-
sible to have any other guarantee.
"But such a faith, however well founded, has but a regulative
and practical, not a speculative, application. It bids us rest
content within the limits which have been assigned to us: it
cannot enable us to overleap them, or to exalt to a more absolute
character the conclusions obtained by finite thinkers concerning
finite objects of thought. For the same condition, which dis-
qualifies us from criticising the laws of thought, must also deprive
us of the power of ascertaining, how much of the results of those
laws is true in itself, and how much is relative and dependent upon
the particular bodily or mental constitution of man during the present
v'lfis*
* The italics are not Mr. MansePs.
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 21
Considerable question has been raised as to Mr.
Hansel's meaning here : but the more I consider the
passage, the clearer it appears to me that Mr. Mansel,
in each separate paragraph, states or implies a denial
of what we have called the ' Principle of Certitude.'
In the first paragraph he takes for granted, what all
of course admit ; the existence of certain ' necessary
laws ' to which ' man as a thinker is subject.' There
cannot be a more undoubted instance of such laws, than
our firm conviction, that the conclusion of a syllogism
really follows from its premisses. Now every one, who
reads the first paragraph above quoted, will recognise
in it the proposition, that ' it is impossible to have any
evidence ' as to ' the absolute validity ' of those laws.
'It is impossible to examine such validity, except by
assuming the whole question;' — this is expressly stated.
' It is impossible to have any evidence of such validity
without examination,' — this is manifestly implied : for,
if it were admitted as possible that there could be such
evidence, the whole paragraph would become totally
unmeaning. 'We are so constituted,' Mr. Mansel im-
plies, ' that we cannot help regarding the conclusion of
a syllogism as resulting from the premisses ; but
whether it really do so result, — of this "from the
nature of the case it is impossible to have any evi-
dence.'" But certainly no other intuitive judgment
carries with it stronger evidence of truth, than does
this judgment, that syllogistic reasoning is cogent.
Hence, ' from the nature of the case it is impossible,'
according to our author, c that any intuitive judgment
can carry with it its own evidence of truth.'
The second paragraph maintains that " the portion
of knowledge, which our faculties are permitted to attain,
cannot be absolute falsehood :" yet ' even this moderate
degree of certainty,' he adds, 'is not attainable by Reason ;
we can have no " other guarantee" for it than " faith."
Now it would carry us much too far, to consider the
philosophical value of this most extraordinary state-
ment, that Faith is our guarantee for the legitimacy of
22 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Reason : * and our immediate question is not the value
but the meaning of Mr. Hansel's theory. And of its
meaning there can surely be no doubt. If it be possi-
ble that intuitive judgments may carry with them their
own evidence of truth, it is possible to have some other
guarantee, besides Faith, of 'the principles on which
Eeason depends/ But Mr. Manscl considers it "ob-
viously impossible to have any other guarantee." Mr.
Mansel therefore considers it obviously impossible, that
intuitive judgments can carry with them their own
evidence of truth. And this is the precise opinion,
which I ascribe to him.
I should add here, however, that when Mr. Mansel
speaks of c Faith,' he does not contemplate exclusively
a special and authenticated Revelation : he includes
under the phrase (as I have good reason to believe)
Faith in that primitive Revelation, on God's Existence
and Attributes, which was made to man at his creation,
and which is still continued throughout the world.
This does not in the least affect my argument ; but it
is necessary to the appreciation of the author's meaning.
Lastly, the third paragraph above quoted refers
again to the ' laws of thought ; ' including of course our
belief, that the conclusion of a syllogism really follows
from the premisses. " We have no power of ascertain-
ing," he says, "how much of the result of those laws
is true in itself, and how much is dependent " on our
natural " constitution " of body or mind. Mr. Mansel
holds then, that we have no power of ascertaining
whether the conclusion of a syllogism do really follow
from its premisses : or whether our belief that it does
so, is simply " dependent on our particular bodily or
mental constitution."
I really cannot see any opening for doubt, as to Mr.
Mansel's meaning ; and in the earlier part of this Section
* I may briefly however ask, what is an act of Divine Faith, except a
certain exercise of Reason ; viz. the believing of this or that truth on God's
Word ? If we have no independent ground for trusting our Reason, what
sufficient ground can there possibly be for our act of Faith ?
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 23
I have said (I trust) what is abundantly sufficient to
refute his doctrine. Here, however, I may be allowed
briefly to state what that doctrine really comes to, and
submit it to his own maturer judgment. Mr. Hansel's
doctrine then is in fact this. ' Unless we lived under a
' Divine Revelation, we could not even guess, whether
'the conclusion of a syllogism really results from its
' premisses ; or whether on the other hand our necessary
' belief tlisit it does so, is a mere delusion, resulting from
'our particular mental constitution. Since, however,
'we do enjoy the light of Divine Revelation, we know
' not indeed that this belief is precisely true, but that
c it cannot be absolutely and totally false/
Again surely, as I just now incidentally urged,
those intuitive judgments which we call acts of memory,
cannot possibly be alleged to have greater means of
carrying with them their own evidence of truth, than
have those intuitive judgments, whereby we recognise
the validity of reasoning. Indeed they apparently fall
under Mr. Mansel's very words : for if I was cold
some short time ago, then my present impression of
/laving then been cold, is a c necessary law,' to which
' as a thinker I am subject.' According to Mr. Mansel
then, were it not for Revelation, my memory would give
me no ground for so much as guessing that I was cold
a short time ago : ' nay even with the light of Reve-
' lation,' according to him, ' I cannot know for certain
' that I was cold a short time ago ; but only that this
4 belief of mine is not absolutely and totally false.'
I would ask Mr. Mansel — with most sincere re-
spect, and with great admiration of his many high philo-
sophical gifts, — whether in this shape he could himself
accept his own theory?*
*• The greater part of Mr. Hansel's passage, above quoted, occurs agaiu
in the author's Bampton Lectures (p. 145, 6.) It will be of some value
then, towards ascertaining his meaning, if we say a few words on the
argument of those lectures.
Their main object is to recommend the conclusion, that we cannot
possess any direct knowledge on the Infinite and the Absolute. Now my
present purpose leads me to consider, not how far this proposition is true,
but what is the argument by which the author supports it. Let us enter
on this question. There are two totally distinct syllogisms, either of which
24 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
A further reason for thinking that I have correctly
seized Mr. Hansel's meaning, will be the effect produced
by his writings on his most unreserved admirers. I may
refer, in illustration of this, to an essay, which un-
doubtedly displays considerable earnestness and ability.
It is a most eulogistic review of Mr. Mansel's Bampton
Lectures, which appeared in the c Guardian ' newspaper
of Dec. 7, 1859. No words can possibly be more ex-
plicit than the following, which I take from that Essay.
" We look for the foundation and for the limit of our belief in
our own faculties) to the deep-seated instinct which tells us that God
cannot deceive. Reason cannot guarantee itself. . . . Surely the
religious instinct, which bids us trust in God, is the one primary
premiss of all truths. Neither sense nor reason can warrant them-
selves : we believe them, because we believe that God gave them and
that in giving them He must needs have given us Truth/'
Strange indeed that this writer never asked himself
the question, — how can we know that we have a
Creator, or that that Creator is Veracious, except
through the highest and choicest acts of Reason ? If
the writer considers that we know these great truths
immediately, he considers, in other words, that we know
them through certain intuitive judgments : i.e. through
certain momentous acts of Reason, appertaining to the
class which we call 'intuitions.' If he holds that we
know these truths by inference, he holds that we know
them by means (1) of certain intuitive judgments,
and (2) of a certain process of inference, based upon
those judgments. In either case then, we know these
would land us in the desired conclusion : and it is of great importance that
we shall precisely understand, which of these two syllogisms is the one
which Mr. Mansel adopts.
SYLLOGISM I.
' Major Premiss. Whatever Reason really declares is really certain.
'Minor Premiss. But Reason really declares, that we have no direct
' knowledge of the Infinite and the Absolute.
' Conclusion. Hence it is certain, that we have no direct knowledge of
* the Infinite and the Absolute.'
SYLLOGISM II.
' Major Premiss. No declaration of Reason suffices to give us certain
1 knowledge ; (because no such declaration can carry with it its own
' evidence of truth.)
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 25
truths through the highest and choicest acts of Reason ;
and cannot possibly know them in any other way.
But if Reason cannot 'guarantee itself,' what 'guarantee*
exists, or can possibly exist, for those acts of Reason,
which give us our knowledge of God's Existence and
Veracity ? From such principles as these, the necessary
consequence is nothing less than scepticism, the most
bewildering and the most desolating, 'Reason cannot
guarantee itself;' hence there is no possible guarantee
for the truth of Reason's declaration, that there exists a
Veracious Creator. But this particular declaration of
Reason is c the one primary premiss of all truths ;' hence,
according to our reviewer, ' there is no possible guaran-
tee ' for ' the one primary premiss of all truths.' If all
truths be derived from one primary premiss, — and if, for
the truth of that premiss, there can be no possible gua-
rantee,— the only inference is, that we have no reason-
able ground whatever for believing any thing at all.
11. I will take my second instance, from a school of
philosophy the most opposed to Mr. Mansel, — the so-
called philosophy of experience: a school, of which
perhaps Mr. Stuart Mill may be cited as the worthiest
English representative. These philosophers claim as
their special characteristic, that they build wholly upon
experience ; ' and this,' they proceed to say, ' is the only
' sure basis of philosophy : for once abandon the solid
'ground of experience, each man will at every turn
' mistake his own personal fancies and prepossessions
'for absolute truth.'
1 Minor Premiss. But whatever direct knowledge is professed of the
' Infinite and the Absolute, is merely the declaration of Reason.
' Conclusion. Hence we do not really possess any certain knowledge of
1 the Infinite and the Absolute.'
These two syllogisms, I have said, are totally distinct ; but indeed, as
regards the question before us, they are absolutely contradictory. The
Major Premiss of the second expressly denies, that which the Major Premiss
of the first as expressly affirms ; viz. that a real declaration of Reason is
certainly true. Now plainly, in regard to the passage quoted in the text,
there can be no doubt which of the above syllogisms it is intended to sup-
port. It is absolutely impossible, by any stretch of ingenuity, to adduce it
in confirmation of the first syllogism : for it has not the remotest tendency
to support the Minor, and it has a very obvious tendency to overthrow the
Major. On the other hand, the tendency of the whole passage (if its
argument were admitted) towards establishing the Major of the second
26 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
I would ask of these philosophers, do they mean by
' experience ' the experience of the present moment,
or do they include past experience also ? If they say
the former, I reply it is obviously false that they do
in any sense build their philosophy wholly, or chiefly,
on experience. But if they answer (as they most
certainty will) that they do include past experience as
well as present, then again I deny their allegation, that
they build their philosophy wholly on experience ; and
I proceed thus to argue against them, on behalf of my
denial.
You make use of your own past experience, — you
make use of other men's experience, — as part of the
foundation on which you build. How can you even
guess what your past experience has been ? By
trusting memory. But how do you prove that those
various intuitive judgments, which we call acts of
memory, can rightly be trusted ? So far from this being
provable by past experience, it must be in each case
assumed and taken for granted, before you can have
any cognizance whatever of your past experience.
Moreover, from these facts of past and present ex-
perience, you deduce argumentative conclusions. In so
doing, you assume in each single instance the validity
of the reasoning process. It cannot be even superficially
or plausibly maintained, that these various judgments, —
' the conclusion here truly results from the premisses,7
— that these various judgments (I say) are derivable
from experience.
syllogism, is so irresistibly obvious, that further words are superfluous on
so plain a fact. It seems beyond question then, that in this passage, at
all events, a denial of what we have called the ' Principle of Certitude ' is
the very basis on which the author's argument has been built.
Still I am far from meaning to imply, that Mr. Mansel never uses the
first syllogism to prove his conclusion : for in one or two places he
undoubtedly does so. Thus (p. 36) he expresses distinctly the very im-
portant truth, that ' Reason itself, rightly interpreted, teaches the existence
of truths above Reason.' And the following passage again, is so justly and
admirably expressed, that nothing can possibly be more so.
" Reason does not deceive us, if we will only read her witness aright ;
" and Reason herself gives us warning, when we are in danger of reading it
" wrong. The light that is within us is not darkness ;' only it cannot
" illuminate that which is beyond the sphere of its rays." (p. 198.)
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 27
At all events then you are compelled to assume two
large classes of judgments, — and those of most vital
importance, — on no ground of experience whatever :
viz. that (1) your various acts of memory, and (2)
also your various acts of reasoning, correspond with
Objective Truth. In making these tremendous assump-
tions, why are you not also exposed to that danger,
which you would fain represent as exclusively besetting
your opponents ; — the danger of mistaking your own
personal fancies and ideas for absolute Truth ? You
will reply perhaps, that you assume no more than all
mankind necessarily assume. I will give one only, of
the many replies which might be made to that state-
ment; — and I answer thus. You assume proposi-
tions of these two classes, before you know, or can so
much as guess, that any other man living assumes
them ; for it is only by means of their assumption, that
it is possible to know, or even so much as to guess,
what other men's opinions are.
As it is most desirable to bring this point quite clearly
home, I will cite and apply a passage, in which Mr.
Stuart Mill states his own philosophical doctrine.
' There is no knowledge a priori ; no truths cognisable by the
' mind's inward light, and grounded on intuitive evidence. Sensa-
' tion, and the mind's consciousness of its own acts, are not only
* the exclusive sources, but the sole materials, of our knowledge.'*
Let us test then, by these principles, an act of
memory. I am at this moment comfortably warm ; but
I call to mind with great clearness the fact, that a short
time ago I was very cold. What datum does ' sensation '
give me? simply that I am now warm. What datum
With this sentiment (I need hardly say) I most cordially agree, and am
very grateful to the author for such valuable and important enunciations.
But the direct philosophical charge which I would venture to bring, is the
following. Two different syllogisms are separately available, in behalf of
Mr. Mansel's conclusion ; syllogisms, however, which it is impossible
logically to combine, because the Major Premiss of the one directly con-
tradicts the Major Premiss of the other. But Mr. Mansel, it appears to
me, has most illogically united these antagonistic syllogisms. He passes
from one to the other with apparent unconsciousness, and without in any
way recognising their mutual inconsistency.
* This passage is the one cited from Mr. Mill by an able writer in the
'National Review,' to whom I shall again have occasion to refer.
28 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
does i consciousness ' give? that I have the present im-
pression of having been cold a short time ago. But
both these data are altogether wide of the mark. The
question which I would earnestly beg Mr. Mill to ask
himself, is this ; — what is my ground for believing, that I
was cold a short time ago? ' I have the present impres-
' sion of having been cold a short time ago ;' — this is one
judgment. ' I was cold a short time ago ;' — this is a totally
distinct and separate judgment. There is no necessary,
nor any even probable, connexion between these two
judgments, — no ground whatever for thinking that the
truth of one follows from the truth of the other, — except
upon the hypothesis, that my mind is so constituted as
accurately to represent past facts. But how will either
4 sensation ' or ; consciousness,' 01* the two combined, in
any way suffice for the establishment of any such pro-
position ?
Those who have maintained the 4 experience ' theory,
differ widely from each other, as to the degree of
religious belief which they have professed : I will
therefore so state my argument, as to cover every pos-
sible case of belief and unbelief. Either my soul ( 1 )
was created by some Superior Being; or (2) was
caused by some non-creative agency ; or (3) started
into existence without any cause at all. These three
alternatives are logically exhaustive. If the first
alternative be taken by the ' experience ' philosopher,
I ask him this question : how can c sensation and con-
sciousness' suffice to shew that the Creator is Veracious?
that he has so formed my soul, that my own present im-
pression of a certain past sensation corresponds (even in
any degree whatever) to a certain past fact? to the fact,
namely, that I really experienced that sensation, at the
time to which my memory refers? If the second al-
ternative be taken, I ask a similar question : How can
'sensation and consciousness' suffice to shew, that this
non-creative cause has issued in the production of a soul,
possessing this singular and admirable endowment, that
my present impression of a certain past sensation cor-
responds (even in any degree whatever) to a certain
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 29
past fact? the fact, namely, that I really experienced that
sensation, at the time to which my memory refers ? If
the third alternative be taken, I ask again a similar
question : How can 'sensation and consciousness' suffice
to shew, that the soul, which has thus without any
cause started into existence, is so singularly and ex-
quisitely constituted, that my present impression of a
certain past sensation corresponds (even though it were
in ever so faint a degree) to a certain past fact? the fact,
namely, that I really experienced that sensation, at the
time to which my memory refers?
For the sake of fixing our ideas, I have confined
my remarks to the case of memory. But it is plain,
that every thing which I have said equally applies to
the case of reasoning; and to the assumption, universally
made by the experience school, that the syllogistic
process is objectively valid. It is undeniable then,
that these philosophers cannot possibly maintain their
ground. 'Sensation and consciousness' are not suffi-
cient foundations for any knowledge, which shall exceed,
or even equal, that of the brutes (see n. 9). These
thinkers, no less than others, must admit various in-
tuitive judgments, as carrying with them their own
evidence of truth. They may join issue no doubt, as to
the number of legitimate intuitions, or on the test of
their legitimacy. But all this is in no wise a question
of principle ; it is wholely and solely a question of
degree. As soon as they have admitted one, they have
abandoned the characteristic tenet of their school.*
* The citation made in the text of Mr. Mansel and Mr. Mill, as types
of sceptical philosophy, was also made in this volume as it was printed last
October. After that period, I read with great interest an article in the
'National Review' (Oct. 1859), on Mr. Stuart Mill, which contains a
remarkable agreement of opinion. I am well aware, how very serious are
the differences between a Christian writer like Mr. Mansel, and such an un-
believing philosopher as Kant ; still Mr. Mansel would himself admit, that
those philosophical utterances of his, which I venture to regard as semi-
sceptical, have their origin in the Kantian school. It must be considered
then an instance of agreement, that the * National Review ' unites the
schools of Kant and of Mill in one category. He says that, amidst the
striking contrasts which exist between these two schools of thought, they
agree in depriving us (if they could establish their respective principles)
of all means for knowing certainly Objective Truth. I have net the article
at hand this moment, and therefore quote from memory.
30 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
12. We have sufficiently shewn then, that the pos-
sibility of our possessing any knowledge worthy of the
name, rests (1), upon the circumstance, that it is possible
for intuitive judgments to carry with them their own
evidence of truth ; and (2), on the circumstance, that
certain intuitive judgments do carry with them such
evidence. Your next question will be, Of what nature is
that evidence ? And this question it is the more impor-
tant to answer distinctly, because some of you have most
seriously misunderstood what I intended to convey.*
To simplify the matter as much as possible, let us
take for illustration (as hitherto we have chiefly done)
two classes of intuitions, which are really and undeniably
legitimate. Let us take (1), those intuitions, wherein I
judge that I really experienced sensations which I dis-
tinctly remember ; and that I experienced them moreover
at the time, to which my memory refers back. Let us
take (2), those intuitions wherein I judge, — a syllogism
having been drawn out in its logical shape, — that its
conclusion really follows from its premisses.
Some of you then have understood me to maintain,
that my belief in the truth of these judgments is the
conclusion of a syllogism. Thus : —
4 Major Premiss. My memory may be trusted.
4 Minor Premiss. My memory testifies this past
* sensation.
' Conclusion, Hence I may know that I really did
experience that sensation.'
Or again,
4 Major Premiss. My reasoning faculty may be
4 trusted.
' Minor Premiss. My reasoning faculty testifies
4 that this conclusion really results from those premisses.
4 Conclusion, Hence I know that it does so result.'
But nothing would be more preposterous than such
a notion as this ; and I never imagined anything at all
like it. In the first place, it is contrary to the clearest
facts. Children e.g. distinctly remember past sensa-
* It was not some of my pupils who thus misunderstood me, but some
of those who read the present volume as it was printed in October.
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 31
tions, — as their having seen their mother's or their
nurse's face, — long before they think of the universal
judgment, that memory may be trusted. Indeed,
multitudes of men (I suppose) pass through life, having
remembered in their time a vast variety of past events,
without having once formally elicited any such uni-
versal judgment.
But there is a second objection to this absurd theory,
even more peremptory than the adverse testimony of
facts. Such a theory is logically self-contradictory.
It is impossible that I can avail myself of a syllogism,
without holding confidently two intuitive judgments.
The first of these judgments is an act of memory; for I
cannot draw the conclusion, without remembering the
premisses. The second is an act, whereby I recognise
that the conclusion does really follow from the pre-
misses. You see, then, how impossible it is that our
ground for confidently forming intuitive judgments can
be any syllogistic process. You see that the very
opposite to this is undeniable. So far from a syllogistic
process being our ground for trusting intuitive judg-
ments, we must, by absolute necessity, trust certain in-
tuitive judgments, before we can have reasonable grounds
for trusting any syllogistic process whatever.
It is very manifest, indeed, since the number of
judgments which we form is not infinite, that there
must be certain judgments, which are not derived by
reasoning from any previous judgments whatever.
These judgments, if legitimate, and if they are not the
mind's mere reflection on its actually present con-
sciousness, are precisely what we call intuitive judg-
ments, carrying with them their own evidence of truth.
In other words, my soul is so constituted, that I not
only elicit certain intuitive judgments, but elicit them
with full grounds of knowing their truth. My soul
possesses a certain intrinsic quality, which gives me
full evidence of their truth at the very moment when I
elicit them. When I return (after a few hours' absence)
to my children, I know, and have the fullest intrinsic
ground for knowing, that I have seen their faces before.
32 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
When I put together the premisses, ' All men are mortal/
and 'I am a man;' — and when from those premisses I
draw the conclusion that CI am mortal;' — I have full
ground for my confidence, that this inference is legiti-
mate. This ground of confidence in either case is, and
can be, nothing else, except the operation of a certain
intrinsic mental quality.
In regard, then, to various judgments of intuition
which might be named, I cannot admit for one moment
that they are either less certain, or less immediate,
than judgments of consciousness. All which can be
said is, that judgments of intuition, however certain,
require for their evidence the operation of a certain
intrinsic mental quality ; whereas judgments of con-
sciousness do not require this. Again, every judgment
of intuition may be accompanied by a corresponding
judgment of consciousness; see n. 1: and yet it is
remarkable, how seldom it is so accompanied. The
judgment of intuition is so absolutely certain, that we
do not trouble ourselves to elicit the parallel judgment
of consciousness. When I see my children again,
spontaneously, and without reflection, I elicit the judg-
ment, c These are the faces which I saw a few hours
4 back.' But, unless I am in an unusually philosophical
mood, I never think of eliciting formally the parallel
judgment of consciousness. I never think of saying to
myself, c I am so affected at this moment, that I cannot
c help thinking I saw these faces a short time ago.'
This intrinsic quality of the mind then it is, which
renders any knowledge possible, beyond the knowledge
of my own actually present consciousness. This quality
it is, of which a consistent sceptic, if such a thinker were
physically possible, would question the existence. This
quality it is, which no one, except that impossible mon-
ster, can question with any consistency at all. It is
through the operation of this quality, that our various
thoughts are raised from mere 'intellectual impotencies,'
to direct and trustworthy perceptions of Truth. It is
through the operation of this quality, and in no other
way, that we are enabled to apprehend Objective Keality.
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 33
And by a very natural and obvious figure, this quality
is commonly called a * light' to the soul. When actual
light is away, we are shut up, each in his own company,
and debarred from all direct vision of the external world.
And so, were it not for this '-intuitional light,' we should
be shut up, without the possibility of escape, in the
dreary region of actually present consciousness. Thanks
be to God, we possess this light : and in its bright efful-
gence, we know our own past history ; we know our
fellow-creatures ; we know our Almighty Creator.
And now observe this further inference. There can
be no doubt, that acts of memory at least, in one shape
or other, proceed throughout our whole waking life. At
every instant, we at least call to mind our consciousness
of the few preceding instants. Consequently, — even
though there were no other legitimate classes of in-
tuition except those two which we have been of late
specially considering, — an important result would follow,
in regard to this c intuitional light/ It is not a quality,
like many others, which is generally dormant, and only
from time to time called into activity : on the contrary,
it puts forth its appropriate operation during every
instant of our waking lives.
Philosophers have been occupied from time to time,
with greater or less of diligence and success, in investi-
gating the nature of this * intuitional light:' and the
same question is destined hereafter (I expect) to play a
far more important part in such inquiries than it has
hitherto done. But it is not requisite for our present
theological purposes, to pursue this matter further.
13. Here then we may draw our breath ; having at
length brought to an end our protracted train of argu-
ment. It will be desirable, before we advance further,
that you should again proceed over the ground which
we have already traversed ; that you should examine
carefully the course of argument, which we have gone
through ; and that you should consider how far your
reason freely and fully recognises its cogency.
If you have followed me up to this point, you will
readily proceed with me one further step.
D
34 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
The Principle of Certitude is, as we have seen, the
one key to any knowledge worthy of the name. But
so soon as the philosophical edifice has been unlocked
and entered, then the question which first meets us on
the threshold, will be the test of legitimate intuitions.
All reasoning of course must be built upon premisses ;
and there must therefore of necessity be a certain
number of primary, premisses which are known to us
not by reasoning but by intuition. The whole of our
knowledge is obtained, and can be obtained, by no other
process, than combining and building upon such primary
premisses. If then this be so, how vitally important is
the task of distinguishing true intuitions from false !
For once suppose our foundation to be erroneous, then
in proportion as we reason the more consistently, the
more accurately, the more frankly and energetically, so
much the more widely mistaken, and in all probability
so much the more mischievous, will our conclusions
become. This all-important preliminary inquiry, — the
mode of distinguishing true intuitions from false, — has
met (I cannot but think) with very far less attention
from philosophers than was its due. The intellect, as
Father Tapparelli incidentally remarks, has two main
functions; the intuitive and ratiocinative :* but the
former has surely been very far less methodically and
systematically treated than the latter.
14. Here however, in order to prevent very pro-
bable misconception, I must make two explanatory
and qualifying statements.
(1.) I am very far indeed from meaning to imply,
that no one can form a legitimate intuition, unless he
be himself prepared with .some philosophical test to
establish its legitimacy. Far indeed otherwise. The
parallel case of inferential judgments will here pre-
cisely illustrate what I mean to convey.
There is no more common phenomenon in the
world than the following. A man of great natural
shrewdness but uncultivated intellect, displays the
* "La faculta intellettiva, nelle due funzioni d'intuito e raziocinio" &c.
— Natural Diritto, n. 32.
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 35
greatest acuteness in deciding, what means will or will
not be conducive to some end which he has greatly
at heart. His reasoning will be most sound from first
to last ; yet not only he will be quite unable to give
any philosophical test of its validity, but even so much
as to state the various premisses on which he proceeds.
Now who will be so wild as to maintain, that this man
has really no valid ground for his conclusions ? that he
is taking them up accidentally and at random, and is as
likely to be wrong as to be right ? No : we shall all
recognise, that he is using that power of reasoning,
which is one of the highest faculties implanted in his
nature; and using it most healthily and legitimately:
nor shall we under ordinary circumstances have any
wish at all, that he should draw out with any greater
accuracy the process through which his mind has
travelled. Yet on the other hand, if we had to do with
a man of totally inaccurate mind, who is leading himself
or others into serious mischief by his bad reasoning, we
should act otherwise ; we should aim at persuading
him to state methodically his various premisses, in
order that he may see how ludicrously inadequate they
are to his conclusions. And lastly, in the case of
philosophical and systematic writers, of them we do
most reasonably expect, not merely that they argue
correctly, but that they put before us their premisses
in sufficient detail ; and not only so, but be prepared
also to vindicate the validity of those reasonings which
they have built thereon.
The case of intuitions is in every respect similar to
this. There are multitudes of men who elicit legi-
timate intuitions, who would be wholly unable to state
any philosophical test which shall establish that legiti-
macy : yet it would be monstrous to say that such
intuitions may not most reasonably be trusted. Again
there are multitudes of men (other men or the same)
who mistake this or that prejudice of their own for a
legitimate intuition : and in such instances it is most
suitable to urge upon their notice, on philosophical
grounds, the spuriousness of such a conviction ; th@
36 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
fact of its being utterly destitute of all pretension to be
accounted true and genuine. Lastly, we may most
fairly call upon those who profess to write scientifically
and to instruct us in philosophy, that they lay down
some plain and intelligible method, whereby we may
distinguish these true primary premisses from spurious
counterfeits ; and that they establish moreover to our
satisfaction the reasonableness and sufficiency of that
method.
(2.) Now for my second explanatory statement.
There are certain intuitions, so intermingled (if I may
so express myself) with the very first springs of
thought, — such indispensable prerequisites to every
intellectual act worthy the name, — that it is simply
impossible to apply directly and methodically any test
of their legitimacy. Impossible for this reason, that
in order to apply any test imaginable, some intellectual
act must be elicited ; which act implies, in the very
process of eliciting it, ttyat those particular intuitions
are genuine. Instances of such intuitions will be
those which we have already so often mentioned ; our
various intuitions of memory and of reasoning. But
then it is these very intuitions, in regard to which
each one of us has the strongest possible guarantee
for their truth; viz. the fact, that it is not less than
physically impossible (see n. 12) to doubt them for one
moment.
Again, even as to these most fundamental intuitions,
a certain subsequent and negative test of their genuine-
ness may be directly and methodically applied. It is
imaginable, that my to-day's memory of the events
which passed last Sunday, may be contradictory to my
yesterday's memory of those same events ; so that by
the fact of trusting my memory, I am led into endless
contradiction and confusion. It is imaginable again,
that the same premisses, if combined in one order,
would lead to one conclusion ; if in another, to another
and a contradictory conclusion : so that by the fact of
trusting my reasoning faculty, I am brought into end-
less contradiction and confusion. I need not say that
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 37
nothing of the sort takes place ; but that on the con-
trary, the deepest harmony exists between those various
propositions, which my memory and my reasoning
faculty combine to establish. Here then is a subse-
quent and a negative test, yet one of a very cogent
description, that those two fundamental classes of in-
tuition are genuine.
15. Having so far explained my meaning, I return
to my former remark. Philosophers in general have
laboured far less, it seems to me, than they ought to
have laboured, at the all-important task of providing
us with tests, whereby genuine intuitions may be dis-
tinguished from spurious. F. Buffier indeed, the well-
known Jesuit metaphysician, has applied himself to
this work, and deserves no slight praise for seeing its
importance and fundamentally ; yet no one, I think,
can regard his treatment of the question as very subtle
or profound. The tests which he suggests are these
three : —
(1.) That the judgments, alleged to be first truths,
be so clear, that when one undertakes either to prove
or to oppose them, one can only do so by the help of
propositions, which are manifestly neither clearer nor
more certain.
(2.) That they be so universally received among
men in every time and place, and by every sort of
character, that those who oppose them find themselves,
in comparison to the rest of mankind, not more than
one in a hundred or even in a thousand.
(3.) That they be so strongly impressed on our
minds, that we conform our conduct to them, notwith-
standing the refinements of those who imagine contrary
opinions ; which latter class indeed act, not in con-
formity with their opinions thus imagined, but with
those first truths which are universally received.*
* " Le premier de ces caracteres est qu'elles soient si claires, que quand
on entrepreud de les prouver on de les attaquer, on ne le puisse faire, que
par des propositions qui rnauifestement ne sont ni plus claires ni plus
certaines ;
" D'etre si universellement re9ues parmi les hoinmes en tout temps, en
tous lieux, et par toutes sortes d'esprits, que ceux qui les attaquent se
88 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
While admitting that I cannot be satisfied with
these three criteria as at all adequate to the occasion,
it must not be supposed that I profess in any way to
improve upon them.* But I would venture to solicit
the serious attention of philosophers to the question ;
as I must think that no edifice of metaphysical science
can be considered stable and trustworthy, where the
security of its very foundation has been so greatly
neglected. Until the question of intuitions has been
systematically and fully considered, I must think it
truer to affirm that most copious and valuable materials
for metaphysical science have been brought together,
than to affirm that that science itself has been defini-
tively called into existence.
For my own part I can only say that, without
attempting any general solution of the question, at all
events I will not allege any one intuition as legitimate,
until I have brought together so many grounds for
my statement, as will (I think) satisfy every reflecting
man.
16. We have already seen quite enough, to guard
us against falling into a fallacy, which need only be
stated to be exposed. It happens sometimes, that when
we claim intuition in behalf of some important pro-
position, certain unphilosophical men, who claim to be
specially philosophical, regard that claim itself as a
confession of argumentative weakness. When we say
plainly that we can advance no chain of syllogisms in
behalf of our thesis, they regard this as tantamount
with a confession, that we do not allege Reason in its
trouvent, dans le genre humain, 6tre manifestement moins d'un centre
cent, ou meme centre mille ;
" D'etre si fortement imprime'es dans nous, que nous y conformions
notre conduit, malgre les raffinements de ceux qui imaginent des opinions
contraires, et qui eux-memes agissent conforniement, non a leurs opinions
imaginees, mais aux premieres verites universellement recues." — Burner,
chap. vii. p. 22.
* I have not attempted any methodical consideration of this most im-
portant matter, because such consideration would have carried us much too
far on purely philosophical ground. Yet I may refer the reader to some
remarks in p. 130-133 with the note ; p. 159-161 ; p. 419. If these remarks
be admitted as true, they have undoubtedly a bearing on the general ques-
tion mentioned in the text.
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 39
behalf at all ; that we cling to it, and admit ourselves
to do so, on grounds of fancy, feeling and prepossession,
in defiance of Reason. But after the various consider-
ations which have occupied us in this Section, it is not
necessary to do more than state very briefly the fol-
lowing most obvious truth. We are guiding ourselves
fully as much by Reason when we hold confidently
legitimate intuitions, as when we proceed further to
draw inferences from those intuitions. Nay it may be
said in one sense, that we go more by Reason in the
former case than in the latter ; so far as in every case
premisses may be said to possess higher certainty, than
the conclusions which they tend to establish. When
men thus thoughtlessly call for argument in each
particular case, they forget that all argument must
depend on certain primary premisses which are not
based on argument. If then nothing is reasonable
except that for which argument is produceable, those
primary premisses are not reasonable ; hence neither are
the conclusions based on them reasonable ; and hence
again, no knowledge of any kind is possible at all.
If indeed no more is meant by such statements,
than that we should be very careful what intuitions
we claim as legitimate; — that this must not be left to
each man's private fancy, but must proceed on certain
fixed and cognizable principles ; — then no more is meant,
than what I not merely admit, but have most earnestly
maintained. But many men really seem to think (most
extravagant as the proposition must appear when for*
mally stated) that all intuitions, from the very nature
of the case, are and must be the mere offspring of
fancy, prejudice, or caprice.
17. This will be a suitable place for such remarks
as seem desirable, on the sense which we affix, through-
out this Section, to the word 'intuition,' and other
kindred terms. What the sense is indeed, in which we
have used the word itself, 'intuition' or 'intuitive
4 judgment,' this will be now quite familiar to you. If
I merely reflect on my actually present consciousness,
I elicit a 'judgment of consciousness.' On the other
40 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
hand, if I regard a certain judgment as resulting from
certain others, this act of the mind is an ' act of in-
' ference/ or an ' inferential judgment.' But if I elicit
a certain judgment as true self-e violently and not by
way of inference, — and if this judgment is not a mere
judgment of consciousness, — we call it an ' intuitive act,7
or an ' intuition.' We call it so, without any regard to
the question of its truth or falsehood ; and accordingly
we subdivide 'intuitions' into 'true' and 'false,' or
' legitimate ' and 4 illegitimate.'
We will further use the verb ' intue,' as corre-
sponding in every respect with the substantive ' intui-
' tion,' and the adjective ' intuitive.'
But it is of the utmost importance, to distinguish
quite clearly, between the intuing act of the mind on
the one hand, and the thing itself intued on the other
hand. As no English word is here ready for our use,
let us coin the word 'intuern.' I am well aware, of
course, how contrary is this word to philological pro-
priety; since the word 'intuition' is derived from the
Latin and not from the Greek. Still, I am sure you
will admit, that, in philosophical discussion, philological
propriety should at once give way, where any increase
of clearness and accuracy can be obtained. I will
define an'intuem,' then, 'a truth legitimately intued.'
My present memory of having seen my children yester-
day is the 'intuing,' or ' intuitive' act, or the ' intuition ;'
the fact itself, now called to mind, that I did then see
them, is the ' intuem.'
Various criticisms may probably enough be made
on this use of words. It is not worth while, certainly,
to speak at any length, on a mere question of verbal
propriety. The less so indeed, because at last the one
adequate defence of any verbal usage is its proved
utility: and this defence it is impossible for you to
appreciate, except by proving its utility ; that is, by
proceeding with our scientific course. Yet a few
words may be in place, to explain why I prefer our
sense of the word 'intuitive,' to others which different
writers have affixed to it.
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 41
Many philosophers confine the term to our immediate
perception of necessary truths. On the meaning of this
term ' necessary ' we are to speak very soon ; but you
have now probably a sufficient general notion of its
sense, to understand what is here intended. My
reason for preferring our own use of the term to that
employed by these philosophers, is the following. I
think it very important, that we should be trained to
contemplate, as a class, all those judgments, which,
without being mere judgments of consciousness, carry
with them their own evidence of truth. These judg-
ments agree with each other in this, that a special
quality of mind is called into action, to make their truth
self-evident. They also agree with each other, in being
by necessity the primary premisses, whereon our whole
fabric of knowledge is built. If you recognise, with
me, the importance of habitually viewing them as a
class, you will, of course, at once see, that no way so
efficacious can be suggested of securing this, as to call
them by a common name.
It may be thought a more questionable usage, that
I include false judgments as well as true under the head
4 intuitions.7 To this it will be a sufficient reply, if I
point to the parallel use of the word ' reasoning/
Whenever I regard a certain judgment as resulting
from certain others, I am said to 'reason;' to arrive at
my result by means of ' reasoning : ' and then we distin-
guish 'sound' reasoning from 'unsound.' Our usage
of the word 'intuition' follows precisely the same
analogy.
A final objection may come from an opposite quarter.
If the word 'intuition' extends both to 'true' and
6 false' judgments, why is not the word ' intuem' made
similarly extensive ? Here again we may point to the
common usage of speech, in regard to that other
principal operation of the intellect, reasoning. If I
reason unsoundly, it is always said that the result at
which I arrive is not a real conclusion from the pre-
misses. And so, if I ' intue' unsoundly, the thing intued
is not a real * intuem.'
42 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
So much then, on the comparatively unimportant
question of verbal propriety.
18. Of intuems, some are c necessary,' others not
so.* By 'necessary intuem' is meant a verity legiti-
mately intued as 'necessarily' true. When, e.g. I
intue by memory that five minutes ago I was seated at
this table, this truth is no necessary intuem. But
when I intue that a rectilineal figure of three sides
has three angles, the truth is necessary, and is legi-
timately intued as such. As no Catholic philosopher
(I believe ) has doubted the existence of necessary
truths, and as my direct purpose is not philosophical
disquisition, we need not say much in mere explanation
of this term 'necessary.' Anything, I suppose, is
'necessarily' true, when its truth arises from nothing
whatever external to itself; when its truth arises simply
from what is expressed in the subject and in the
predicate of that proposition which declares it. Thus
the intuern, that I was seated five minutes ago at this
table, resulted from the external circumstance that my
will then gave my body the requisite command. But
the intuem, that every three-sided rectilineal figure has
three angles, arises simply from the intrinsic connexion
which exists, between a three-sided and a three-angled
rectilineal figure. The truth of this latter intuem, I
say, does not result, nor is intued by me as resulting,
from any external circumstance, as for instance from a
Creator commanding that such figures should have such
a property ; but is intued as wholly intrinsic to the
objects themselves whereof we are judging.
19. This leads the way to a very important philoso-
phical discussion. We believe of course most firmly,
and believe as a truth which Reason by itself can
establish, that there exists an All-holy, Almighty God,
Infinite in every Perfection, The One Necessary Self-
existent Being. Here then a difficulty presents itself,
* It can hardly be requisite to remark, that, throughout this Chapter,
where I speak of ' necessity,' I invariably mean what is called ' metaphy-
sical necessity,' as distinct from ' physical ' or ' moral.' These three
distinctions correspond to the three distinctions of objective certainty : see
p. 427, 8.
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 43
which will more and more make itself felt, in proportion
as we more carefully ponder on the relations which
must exist between God and Necessary Truth. Let us
enquire then, as a preliminary step, what is the relation
in which Necessary Truth stands, to the Intellect and
the Will of this Adorable Being. We assume His
existence ; and we proceed upon that assumption. Nor
can we take a better instance of Necessary Truth, than
the axioms and theorems of Geometry.
Let us consider then two propositions, which are im-
plied by this word 'necessary,' in regard to Mathematical
Truth, and its relation to God's Intellect and Will.
(1.) Necessary truths do not derive their verity,
from the fact that God necessarily intues them. Rather
the very opposite is the fact : God necessarily intues
them, because they are necessary truths. Who would
say e. g. that God is necessarily Self-Existent, because
He intues Himself to be so ? On the contrary of course :
He intues Himself to be so, because He is so. In like
manner He necessarily intues the base angles of an
isosceles triangle to be necessarily equal, because they
are necessarily equal : He necessarily intues that the
three angles of every triangle together necessarily
equal two right angles, or that the square of the hypo-
thenuse necessarily equals the sum of the squares of
the sides, because in each instance the truth is so.
It is indeed (as is manifest) the very excellence of
God's Intellect, that it is necessarily determined by
Truth ; or (in other words) His Intellectual Perception
depends on Truth, not Truth upon His Intellectual
Perception.
What Vasquez says of Moral Truth, is applicable to
all Necessary Truth of whatsoever kind, 'Ante omnem
' Dei Voluntatem et Imperium, immo etiam ante omne
4 JudiciumJ this truth must be conceived as existing ;
' praecedens, secundum rationem, omne Judicium Divini
« Intellects.' (In lm 2" d. 150, n. 23.) It follows
therefore, that through all Eternity God is constantly
and necessarily gazing on the vast mass of Necessary
Mathematical Truth.
44 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
(2.) It is not only certain that necessary truths are
not derived from God's intuition of them, but that in
some sense they seem to limit His Power. God cannot
create a rectilineal figure of three sides, which has more
or less than three angles ; or again, whose angles taken
together amount to either more or less than two right
angles.
Here then we are brought face to face with the
difficulties which I mentioned as existing. Is the
assertion endurable, that God is gazing through all
Eternity on some mass of Necessary Truth, external to
and independent of Himself? on Truth, co-eternal with
Himself, and yet distinct from Himself? on Truth,
equally necessary with Himself, and yet not Himself?
Again, is the assertion endurable, that God's Power is
limited by something external to Himself? not by His
Own Intrinsic Perfections (as e. g. He is unable to
destroy Himself because of His Necessary Self-exist-
ence) but by some body of external Truth ? I ask again,
is either of these assertions endurable ? It is plain that
neither could be tolerated by any reflecting Theist.
And yet, if we wish to avoid this, there is but one
possible resource ; in other words, we are led by com-
pulsion to one very definite conclusion. We are
led to infer, that Necessary Truth is not distinct
from God Himself; that (in some way wholly incom-
prehensible to us) it is identified with Him; that, in
gazing on it, He is not gazing on something external to
Himself, but merely penetrating and comprehending the
depths of His Own Nature; that when His Power is
limited by it, it is limited by no external shackle, but
by His Own Intrinsic Essence. That this fact is totally
mysterious, I of course fully admit; though really not
more so, than is every proposition which concerns the
Incomprehensible Creator. It is totally mysterious :
but there is no difficulty whatever (so far as I am aware)
in the way of our receiving it. Nor does it seem to me
possible to avoid this precise conclusion. It seems to
me that we are brought, by the very exigency of the
case, to that one hypothesis, which avoids all difficulties,
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 45
and harmonizes all data ; that hypothesis, which admits
all that Reason testifies, on the absolute independence
possessed by Necessary Truth; while it even deepens
and intensifies our apprehension of God's Greatness
and Incommunicable Necessity.
This then is our conclusion. All Necessary Truth is
identical with God ; in intuing it, I really intue the One
Necessary Ens; though in this, as in so many other
cases, I may be very far from recognising the full
extent of the Object which I contemplate. God, in
intuing Necessary Truth, intues Himself; a creature,
in intuing Necessary Truth, intues God.
Nor is there absence of high Catholic authority in
support of this view ; Bossuet, e. g. states the doctrine
which we advocate in the strongest and most express
terms :
Tout ce qui se demontre en Mathematique, et en quelque autre
science que ce soit, est eternel et immuable : puisque Peffet de la
demonstration est de faire voir que la chose ne peut etre autrement
qu'elle est demon tree.
Aussi, pour entendre la nature et les proprietes des choses que
je connois, par exemple, ou d'un triangle, ou d'un carre, ou d'un
cercle, ou les proportions de ces figures, et de toutes autres figures
entre elles, je n'ai pas besoin de savoir qu'il y en ait de telles dans
la nature ; et je suis assure* de n'en avoir jamais ni trace ni vu de
parf'aites. Je n'ai pas besoin non plus de songer qu'il y ait
quelques mouvemens dans le monde, pour entendre la nature du
mouvement meme, ou celle des lignes que chaque mouvement
decrit, les suites de ce mouvement, et les proportions selon les-
quelles il augmente ou diminue dans les graves et les choses
jetees. Des que 1'idee de ces choses s'est une fois reveillee dans
mon esprit, je connois que, soit qu'elles soiente, ou qu'elles ne
soient pas actuellement, c'est ainsi qu'elles doivent £tre, et qu'il
est impossible qu'elles soient d'une autre nature, ou so fassent
d'une autre fa^on.
Et pour venir a quelque chose qui nous touche de plus pres,
j'entends, par ces principes de verite eternelle, que quand aucun
autre etre que 1'homme, et moi-meme ne serions pas actuellement ;
quand Dieu auroit resolu de n'en creer aucun autre ; le devoir
essentiel de I'homme, d£s-la qu'il est capable de raisonner, est de
vivre selon la Raison, et de chercher son Auteur, de peur de lui
manquer de reconnoissance, si, faute de le chercher, il 1'ignoroit.
Toutes ces verites, et toutes celles que j'en deduis par un
46 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
raisonnement certain, subsistent independamment de tons l*>s temps:
en qnelqne temps que je mette un entendement humain, il les
connoitra ; mais, en les connoissant, il les trouvera verites, il ne
\vsfera pas telles: car ce ne sont pas nos connoissances qni font
leurs objets ; elles les supposent. Ainsi ces verites subsistent (levant
tous les siecles, et devant qu'il y ait eu un entendement humain :
et quand tout ce qui se fait par les regies des proportions, c'est-a-
dire tout ce que je vois dans la nature, seroit detruit, excepte moi,
ces regies se conserveroient dans ma pensee ; et je verrois claire-
rnent qu'elles seroient toujours bonnes et toujours veritable?, quand
moi-meme je serois detruit, et quand il n'y auroit personne qui
fut capable de les comprendre.
Si je chercJie maintenant, ou, et en quel sujet elles subsistent
e'ternelles et immuables, comme elles sont, je suis oblige d'avouer un
Eire, ou la verite est Eternellement subsistante, et ou elie est toujours
entendue ; et cet Etre doit etrela Verite meme, et doitetre toute
Verite; et c'est de Lui que la verite derive, dans tout ce qui est et
ce qui s'entend hors de lui.
C'est done en Lui, d'une certaine maniere qui rrfest incomprd-
hensible, c^est en Lui, dis-je, que^'e vois ces verites dternelles ; et les
voir, c'est me tourner a Celui, qui est immuablement toute Verite,
et recevoir Ses Lumieres.
Cet Objet Eternel, c'est Dieu, eternellement Subsistant, eter-
nellement Veritable, eternellement la Verite meme. — De la Con-
noissance de Dieu et de Soi-meme, cap. iv. n. o.
I was led to this passage of Bossuet, by a work of
M. Jourdain on St. Thomas's Philosophy. The author
adds, that c les maitres les plus autorises de la philosophic
du 17e siecle . . tombent d'accord avec Bossuet 'in
this statement (vol. ii. p. 375). Fenelon certainly
holds the same doctrine ; as large passages from his
work on the Existence of God amply demonstrate.
The following may suffice: —
Toutes nos connaissances universelles ont Dieu meme pour Objet
fmmediat ; mais Dieu considere avec certaine precision, par
rapport aux divers degres selon lesquels il peut communiquer
Son Eire.— Part 2, n. 56.
The 'Prselectiones Philosophies,' used at St. Sulpice,
make the same statement : —
f In Essentia Diviria continentur relationes essentiales et neces-
sariaB rerum.' — n. 1557.
Nay, M. Jourdain tells us that William of Auvergne,
as bishop, condemned in the year 1240 the ' heretical
ON INTUITIONS AND THE PRINCIPLE OF CERTITUDE. 47
' proposition/ c qu'il y a des ve*rites e*ternelles, qui ne
'sont pas Dieu meine.' (Vol. i. p, 51.)
A little research would enable me (no doubt) to
accumulate a large number of such passages, from
the highest authorities. But there is no need of such
research ; for the conclusion is one, which will at once
commend itself both to the judgment and feelings of
all devout Catholics.*
20. Having now then sufficiently prepared the way,
for those theses which I am mainly anxious to prove, I
shall here close the present Section, the various pro-
positions, which we have (I think) established in the
course of it, are very closely connected with philo-
sophical controversies, which have been at all times
most keenly and earnestly discussed, and never more
so than at the present time. I have endeavoured how-
ever to steer clear of these controversies, so far as was
consistent with what was absolutely necessary for my
design. Not that I regard these controversies as unim-
portant : on the contrary, they appear to me vitally
momentous ; and perhaps more so now than at any
former period. Nor has the reason of my procedure
altogether been, that I am without a decided opinion
upon them ; for on some of the matters at issue, I have
been led to form a very decided opinion. But my
direct subject being Theology and not Philosophy, I
have felt all through, that it was very desirable to con-
fine strictly our philosophical discussions to the estab-
lishment of those truths, which are indispensably
requisite as a foundation for what is to follow.
* A very able and learned writer in the 'Dublin Review' (June 1857,
p. 411, note) has some remarks on this doctrine. I do not understand him
however to question it, but to deprecate its adoption as the basis of ' Ethi-
cal Science :' 'it were an unsuitable basis,' he says, 'on which to build up
* Ethical Science.' And I the rather think this must be the writer's mean-
ing, because only a few pages back he himself seems to have asserted the
same doctrine. ' Necessary and absolute ideas,' he remarks (p. 407) { are
'the Divine Idea itself, presenting itself under different aspects.'
It is a very interesting question, and one which it is very desirable that
some competent person should treat, how far the scholastics, in all which
they say about the immutable essences of things, do not tend in some
measure to imply the doctrine stated in the text. See a very remarkable
passage in Vasquez, on the 1' 2'e, d. 97, n. 9.
48
SECTION II.
On the Essential Characteristics of Moral Truth.
i
21. We may begin this Section, by stating two or
three extremely simple moral judgments, which would
be formed spontaneously by any human being, who
should know the circumstances of the respective cases.
The first judgment given shall contain the special idea
of moral obligation.
A friend of mine, who has loaded me with benefits,
entrusts to my keeping a jewel of great value, for the
sake of its safe custody ; while he goes to seek his for-
tune in other lands. He returns in a state of great
distress, and reclaims his jewel. I recognise imme-
diately, and without the faintest shadow of doubt, that
I ought to restore it ; or in other words that I am under
the moral obligation of restoring it.
Now, before going further, let us consider what is
precisely meant here by the phrsse 'moral obligation.'
When I say that I am under the moral obligation of
restoring the jewel, I mean neither more nor less than
that the not restoring it would be ' morally evil.' If
we examine our own consciousness, we shall find that
invariably this term ' moral obligation ' is but corre-
lative to the other term ' morally evil.7 When I say
that such an act, under such circumstances, is of 'moral
obligation,' I mean neither more nor less, than that to
abstain from doing it would be 'morally evil.' When
I say that c the avoidance of such an act would be of
moral obligation/ I mean that ' the doing it would be
morally evil.' The term ' moral obligation ' then, by
no means need imply the existence of some other person,
THE ESSENTIAL CHARACTERISTICS OF MORAL TRUTH. 49
who imposes the obligation;* it implies no more, than
the existence in certain acts of this quality, 'moral evil.'f
Of this particular term ' moral obligation ' then, I need
not make any further explicit mention ; because its
explanation is necessarily contained, in the explanation
of its correlative ' morally evil.*
The first moral judgment then, which I have given
for illustration, may be stated thus : ' to refuse restora-
tion of the jewel under these circumstances would be
morally evil/
Take this as a second judgment. A rich man,
instead of giving himself up to luxurious indolence,
devotes himself indefatigably to some object of great
public importance. If I believe that his motives for
doing so are pure and simple, I judge that this conduct
is 4 morally good.'
And take this as a third judgment. A and B are
two men of my acquaintance. A devotes the main
current of his life, — devotes his labour, his time, his
wealth, — to instructing the ignorant, relieving the dis-
tressed, promoting the cause of virtue. B on the other
* " Ceux qui ne veulent pas, que la connaissance du juste et de Vinjuste
suffise pour imposer une obligation proprement dite, sont fort embarrasses
de trouver le fondement de Fobligation a la Loi Naturelle." — Gerdil, to be
quoted at length in Sec. iv.
t The text is so worded as to imply a doctrine, which I hold to be
certainly true ; viz., that the ' malitia ' of a bad act is a positive attribute :
This question is to be considered, among others, in the third Book ; nor
•would it have been alluded to here, had there not been an impression (as I
find) in the mind of some Catholics, that the doctrine which I follow is of
questionable theological soundness. Some Catholics, I say, are under the
impression, that there is at least a consent of theologians in favour of a.
proposition, contradictory to our doctrine ; the proposition, namely, that
the ' malitia ' of an evil act consists entirely in the ' privatio rectitudinis
debitse.' The following extract will abundantly show how totally mistaken
is any such impression ; and how completely the question is an open one
among theologians. It is taken from the ' Theol >gia Scholastica ' of that
well-known English theologian, F. Compton Carleton, S. J.
'Secunda ergo et probabilior sententia affirmat, malitiam moralcm actus
peccaminosi consistere in aliquo positive, positivd scilicet difformitate ad
rectam rationem. Ita Medina ; Bannez ; Zamel ; Caietanus, asserens se non
ausurum fuisse hoc dicere, nisi id clare docuisset S. Thomas. Addit tamen
huic actui Caietanus aliam malitiam privativam, in carentia rectitudinis
sitam. . . Eandem sententiam sequitur Vasquez, Lessius, Erice, Coninck,
Gabriel, Raymundus, Arriaga, Amicus ; estque communissima hodie inter
recentiores opinio.' — d. 100, § 3, n. 1.
E
50 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
hand, without grossly neglecting any of his immediate
duties, leads on the whole a life of great comfort and
enjoyment. If I believe A's motives to be good, I
judge without the slightest doubt that A's course of
life is * morally better ' than B's.
These three judgments, I need not say, are very
closely related to each other. In the first, I hold that
a certain act is 'morally evil;' in the second, that a
certain course of life or series of acts is 'morally good;'
in the third, that one course of life or series of acts is
more ' morally good ' than another. I have the idea
then, however I came by it, of a certain quality which
I call ' moral goodness.' This quality is of such funda-
mental importance, that no more momentous question
can possibly engage our mind, than an examination
into its real nature.
I begin with making one statement, which will be
found (1 think) of the utmost value, both in promoting
clearness of thought on the subject, and also in serving
as a basis for the argument which will succeed. The
idea, expressed by this term 'morally good,' is a 'simple'
idea. And in a matter of such very great importance,
you must allow me to proceed, first of all, at some little
length, in merely explaining what is meant by this
statement.
22. The idea expressed by the term ' sweet,' — when
I judge e. g. that this lump of sugar is 'sweet' — is a
simple idea. I may explain ' sweet ' indeed, by saying
that it is the opposite to ' bitter ;' just as I may explain
' bitter ' by saying that it is the opposite to ' sweet.'
But any further explanation than this is impossible : he
who has never experienced the sensation in question, can-
not possibly understand the term. So I may explain
' morally good,' by saying it is the opposite to ' morally
evil ;' or I may explain ' morally evil,' by saying it is
the opposite to ' morally good.' But I maintain that
WKJ further explanation of the term is impossible ; that
if a man had never experienced the exact thought in
question, he would not by possibility be made to under-
stand the term.
TUB ESSENTIAL CHARACTERISTICS OF MORAL TRUTH. 51
The opposite to a ' simple idea ' is a { complex idea ;'
and the great majority of those which the mind con-
ceives are of this character. Take for instance that
idea, which we express by the term l a poetical tempera-
ment:'— of how many simple ideas is it not composed!
Numbers of men no doubt use the term, having learned
from others to use it with this or that application, who
attach to it very little definite meaning. But how
different is the case with those who intelligently apply
it ! That it is a most complex idea, is admitted by all
philosophers : what precisely are those simple ideas
whereof it consists, — this is among the most difficult,
as among the most interesting, of psychological ques-
tions. There are certain qualities of mind, which are
found, in certain marked instances, to exist together in
very special intensity ; while other qualities are not
found to exist in all these marked instances to any
intense degree. From the fact of the former qualities
being so often found united with each other in special
intensity, we think of them in combination; and we give
to that combination a name of its own. But to resolve
that combination into its component parts, — in other
words, to analyse that complex idea into the simple
ideas of which it consists, — this requires the most care-
ful and accurate observation.
Let us suppose the analysis rightly performed. By
a 'poetical temperament' then, is meant the possession
in an intense degree of certain mental qualities ; A, B,
C, D, and E.
Enough has been said to show how complex is the
idea expressed by that phrase, — c the poetical tempera-
ment.' For another illustration, consider how complex
is the idea which we express, in saying that ' A and B
are attached friends.' That they sincerely desire each
other's welfare, — this is part of the idea: but how
much more does it not also contain!
A third instance shall be given, because of its theo-
logical importance. The One Perfectly Simple Being,
Who exists or possibly can exist, is Almighty God : and
52 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
moreover, if we are so happy as hereafter to see Him
in Heaven, that idea of Him, which we shall receive
from His Facial Vision, will be simple even as He is
Simple. But here in via our idea of Him becomes
more complex, in proportion as it becomes more real
and definite. We may think of Him vaguely, as the
' Cumulus of all Perfections : ' but if we wish to grow
in His knowledge and love, we must obtain of Him a
far more real and definite notion. How do I form for
myself such a notion ? I ponder on one Perfection
after another: Power, Knowledge, Sanctity, and the
rest ; and I reflect on His possessing all these per-
fections in infinite extent. The highly complex idea
which I thus obtain, is a very real knowledge of Him,
so far as it goes ; and it is the nearest approach to a
full knowledge which we can possibly gain, so long as
we are exiles (alas!) from our True Home.
But as there are c complex ideas,' so evidently there
must be 'simple ideas.' Complex ideas are analysed
into simpler ones; these again perhaps, into others
simpler still. At length then, we must come to a
position where further analysis is impossible; a posi-
tion where the ideas, into which we have decomposed
the original idea, are themselves perfectly simple.
23. We are now able to understand two terms,
which are frequently used by modern philosophers, and
which will greatly assist us in our subsequent enquiries.
Some judgments are ' analytical,' others c synthetical.'
And in like manner, — since a ' proposition ' is merely
the verbal expression of a 'judgment,' — some pro-
positions are ' analytical,' and others ' synthetical.'
An ' analytical 'judgment is one, in which it is judged
that the idea of one term is contained in the very idea
of the other.* Thus if I say that 'he who possesses a
4 poetical temperament, possesses in an intense degree
* the qualities B and E,' I shall be forming an analyti-
* Perhaps I should make some apology for using the words 'term,'
' subject,' ' predicate ' (both here and elsewhere), not only when speaking of
propositions, but of judgments not expressed in words.
THE ESSENTIAL CHARACTERISTICS OF MORAL TRUTH. 53
cal judgment; for I consider that the idea of possessing
these qualities in an intense degree, is contained in the
very idea ' a poetical temperament.'
Those judgments, which are not ( analytical,' are
called ' synthetical :' and we may give an illustration
or two almost at random, for the purpose of making
clearer the distinction between these two classes. Sup-
pose I form this judgment ; ' my parents were instru-
' mental to my birth into the world :' here is an ' analy-
tical ' judgment ; this is part of what I mean, when I
say 'my parents.' But suppose I form this judgment;
' my parents should be honoured and obeyed by me : '
here is a ' synthetical judgment.' We may consider
this latter judgment indeed to be intuitively evident:
but still the idea of * claiming justly my honour and
obedience,' is not part of the idea which I express, when
I say i my parents.' Another illustration may be taken
from a thesis, which I argue in the fifth Section of the
second Chapter. To judge that happiness consists in a
gratification of the propensions, — is to elicit an 'ana-
lytical' judgment: the judgment results at once, from
considering what is meant by ' happiness,' ' propension,'
'gratification.' But to judge that 'earthly happiness
4 is most surely obtained by means of virtue,' — this,
however true, is no 'analytical' judgment: its truth is
made manifest, by examining, not the sense of words,
but the properties of things.
Analytical judgments may be ' true ' or ' false ;' for
it is evident that I may be mistaken in my opinion, that
this idea is contained in that. In regard to the more
complicated phenomena even of my own mind, I may
make very serious mistakes when I attempt their
analysis.
A second division of analytical ' judgments may be
into ' objective ' and ' subjective.' For (1)1 may judge,
that one idea is contained in another, as I am at this
moment conceiving the latter idea. Or (2), I may judge
that those who conceive the complex idea most clearly
and fully, those who use the word expressing it most
intelligently, — that those men tend more and more to
54 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
include in it such and such simpler ideas. In the
former case, I judge that the complex idea, as I now
conceive it, contains these simpler ideas : in the latter
case, I judge that the complex idea, in its full objective
sense, contains them. The former class then may be
called 'subjective,' the latter ' objective ' analytical judg-
ments ; and great confusion of thought sometimes arises
from the neglect of this distinction.
Then again we may divide analytical judgments
into ' exhaustive ' and * partial : ' accordingly as I judge
that I am recounting the whole, or merely some part
(greater or less), of those simpler ideas, which together
constitute the 4 complex.'
There is one class of propositions, which must rank
under the head 'analytical,' but which are quite un-
worthy of so respectable a name ; nay, which hardly
deserve the appellation of propositions at all. I mean
c tautological ' statements, or truisms. In these state-
ments,— not merely the idea of one term is contained
in that of the other (as it is in all analytical proposi-
tions), but there is no idea expressed in either term,
which is not clearly, distinctly, and explicitly expressed
in the other. Suppose for instance, that I define a penta-
gon to be ' a rectilineal figure with five sides ; ' and then
proceed gravely to enunciate the proposition, ' every
pentagon has five sides.' This is the same kind of
proposition, as though I affirmed ' a table is a table,' or
ca tree is a tree.' We may call ordinary analytical
propositions by the name 'solid/ to distinguish them
from such empty statements as these tautologies.
It may be asked in conclusion, ' can those judgments
of Consciousness, spoken of in the preceding Section,
ever amount to solid analytical judgments ?' Most
clearly not. A judgment of consciousness is one, which
does not require at all for its evidence the mind's ' in-
tuitional light ; ' it is simply the mind's momentary
glance on its actually present phenomena. It is per-
fectly impossible, that I can perform a solid analysis of
any one among my mental phenomena, except by
fixing my gaze on it for some period of time. In doing
THE ESSENTIAL CHARACTERISTICS OF MORAL TRUTH. 55
this, I take for granted that the phenomenon in question
is substantially the same at each separate instant, which
it was in the previous instant. But this fact cannot be
known to me by ' consciousness : ' it is only known to
me by c intuition ; ' by that particular kind of intuition,
which I call an act of memory. A judgment of con-
sciousness then is, by absolute necessity, a simply
tautologous judgment: 4my present feeling is what it
is ;' or ' is what I now feel it to be/
24. Proceeding then to our immediate theme, — it is
plain, from what has been said, that nothing can be
more thoroughly intelligible, than the inquiry on which
we are about to enter. If I say that the taste, which I
receive from this lump of sugar, is c sweet/ this term
'sweet' expresses a simple idea. If I say that the
lump itself is c hard/ this term expresses a complex
idea; for it includes (1), the idea of muscular pressure,
and (2), of resistance to that pressure. Now in con-
• 1 • . • .• T • 1 . 1 . • . • x 11
rally
is
that
this is * morally better ' than that. The question before
us is, whether this idea, c morally good,' and its opposite
4 morally evil,' be simple or complex ideas ; whether they
be simple, like the idea 4 sweet ; ' or complex, like the idea
' hard.'*
On questions of this sort, Reason has one, and one
only, court of final appeal ; the impartial judgment of a
reasonable man, who will reflect on what passes in his
own mind. It is simply unmeaning to ask for any
proof except this ; all that a controversialist can do, is
* So the " Prselectiones Philosophies" speak of those philosophers who
hold, * boni et mali notionem primitivam esse et in aliam clariorem irreduc-
'tibilem* (n. 1510): and they distinguish these from others, who think
* bonitatem et malitiam ex pluribus conceptibus coalescere* (n. 1513). I
should add in candour that the author of the "Prselectiones" differs from
me, and regards 'morally evil' as a complex idea. He states however
(n. 1511), that the whole Scotch school of Philosophy take the view which I
advocate ; and I need hardly add that Catholic writers always express great
respect for the dicta of this school. An instance will be found of this, in
the quotation from Perrone to be inserted in Sec. 4.
56 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
to lead men (as best lie may) to fix their attention,
each for himself, on those particular facts, of which he
may wish to obtain their recognition. And obviously
our most satisfactory course in the present instance
will be, to begin by examining what our opponents
maintain. We will proceed then at once to consider
the different analyses of the term ' morally evil,' which
have been attempted by those various philosophers,
who have regarded it as capable of analysis.
25. By far the most plausible of all these analyses,
are those which would explain ' morally evil,' as mean-
ing 'worthy of disapprobation,' or ' worthy of blame,' or
' worthy of punishment.' The connection is undoubtedly
most close and indissoluble, between the various phases
of the idea 'moral goodness,' on the one hand, — -and of
these ideas, — ' deserving approbation' or ' praise' or 're-
ward,'— on the other hand. Consider such judgments
as the following: — 'All wicked actions are worthy of
disapproval, of blame, of punishment.' 'All morally
good acts are worthy of approbation, of praise, of
reward.' ' If act A is morally better than act B, it is
more worthy of approbation, of praise, of reward.' All
these judgments are formed so readily and unmistake-
ably, — it is so impossible even to imagine their contra-
dictories,— that the predicate in each case might not
unnaturally be regarded, as containing an analysis of
the subject. If then it be found that no such claim
can be maintained, much less is it probable that any
other attempt at analysis will be found successful.
And yet a very little consideration will suffice to
overthrow the hypothesis before us. Let us first take
the first of these three alleged analyses, — ' worthy of
disapprobation.' Evidently this is no real analysis.
The idea ' disapprobation ' is not more simple than the
idea f morally evil,' but the very contrary. It is more
complex ; it contains the idea ' morally evil ' as part of
itself. For what at last is meant by my ' disapproba-
tion ' of an act ? simply my recognition of it as ' morally
evil.' The quality ' morally evil ' is presupposed as
THE ESSENTIAL CHARACTERISTICS OF MORAL TRUTH. 57
appertaining to the act ; and the word 4 disapprobation/
expresses the recognition of that quality, whether by
the agent or by some other person.
Neither therefore can i morally evil ' be analysed
as signifying ' worthy of blame ; ' for ' blame is but the
expression in words, of that intellectual judgment which
we call c disapprobation/
The ideas then, 4 disapprobation ' and ' blame,' are
more complex, not more simple, than the idea ' morally
evil:' and even more obviously is the same assertion
true, of the idea * punishment.' We fully understand
all that is meant by the proposition that ' an act is
morally evil,' before we have so much as considered
the question, whether it be ' worthy of punishment.' It
happens indeed continually, that we elicit the former
judgment, without proceeding at all, explicitly or
implicitly, to elicit the latter. On so plain a matter
no more certainly need be said.
26. Having disposed of these, the most plausible
endeavours at analysis, I will next consider an explana-
tion of the terms ' morally evil,' which is not unfre-
quently, nor unnaturally, given by devout Catholics.
These excellent men consider the idea c morally evil,' as
a complex one ; and as signifying neither more nor less
than this, — 'forbidden by the Creator.' In the next
Section I hope to adduce a series of arguments
against this allegation ; here I will confine myself to
one. This one, however, I will state at full length and
in considerable detail ; because it will be found equally
available, against every other imaginary analysis of our
term, which has been, or can be, attempted.
At starting it is hardly necessary (I suppose) to
make one observation. It is of course admitted by all
Theists, that everything morally evil is forbidden by the
Creator ; we are but enquiring, whether this can
truly be called the meaning of the term. And we shall
the better arrive at a solution of this question, by giving
one or two more illustrations, of ' analytical ' and 4 syn-
thetical ' judgments respectively.
58 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Suppose I put before you this proposition, and pro-
pose to prove its truth : — ' two mutually attached friends
(of whom I have heard) are sincerely desirous of pro-
moting each other's welfare.' You will answer at once :
4 no need of proof ; of course the statement is true ; the
' very idea ' mutually attached friends ' includes the
idea ' desirous of promoting each other's welfare.' '
Suppose I ask you whether it is true, that all hard
substances resist muscular pressure : ' of course,' you
will reply; ' that is what we mean by 'hard substances.' '
Suppose I ask, ' is it true that my parents were instru-
mental in bringing me into the world?' You will
answer, — 'this is included in the meaning of the very
''term parents.' All these judgments then are analytical.
But suppose I put before you this proposition : — 'to
4 refuse the restitution of a deposit is morally evil/
Will you say that this statement is included in the
very meaning of the subject ? Of course not. You
fully understand all that is meant\>y the term, — ' refusing
'the restitution of a deposit,' — before you so much as
consider the question, whether such refusal be morally
good or evil. If any one of you were so morally
insensible as not to admit that such refusal is morally
evil, he would none the less call such refusal ' the
refusing restitution of a deposit.' This judgment then,
however certain and obvious, is not ' analytical,' but
' synthetical.'
Again suppose I put before you this proposition : —
ca child's disobedience to his parents in an indifferent
matter is morally evil :' — you will make the same remark
as in the former case. You understand all that is meant
by the term 'a child's disobedience, &c.' before you
consider the question whether it be morally evil. The
proposition is synthetical.
Or, suppose I put before you this proposition : —
' disobedience to the Creator is morally evil :' — you will
be quite as ready, as in the former instances, to make the
very same remark. You understand what is meant by
4 disobedience to the Creator,' before you consider the
THE ESSENTIAL CHARACTERISTICS OF MORAL TRUTH. 59
question whether or no it be morally evil. If a monster
could be found who denied that such disobedience is
wrong, he would none the less call it ' disobedience.'
This judgment, like the two former, is plainly synthetical.
I am quite certain that you would give this answer,
quite as readily in the latter as in the former instances ;
and I have been anxious to obtain your spontaneous
judgment, before you should be aware of its bearing
on our question. The one appeal of Reason in such
cases, as I have already said, is to the impartial judg-
ment of an intelligent person, who will reflect on what
passes in his own mind. Now the best mode of secur-
ing the requisite impartiality, is that you should be
induced simply to examine your own consciousness,
without even knowing the philosophical effect of your
answer.
That answer however having been given, I would
next beg you to observe that it is absolutely decisive on
the point at issue. ' Disobedience to the Creator,' is
neither more nor less than the 'doing that which is
'forbidden by the Creator ;' and our opponents main-
tain that the very meaning of the term ' morally evil '
is simply this. But so far is this from the case, that you
have already admitted its precise contradictory.
We have been considering this proposition, — c the
c doing what our Creator forbids is morally evil.7 On
our opponents' view this proposition is analytical : for
on their view the very meaning of the subject and pre-
dicate is precisely identical. But you have already
admitted it as most clear and undeniable, that the pro-
position is ' synthetical,' and not analytical ; or, (in
other words) you have admitted it as clear and unde-
niable, that the idea ' morally evil,' is not equivalent to
the idea ' forbidden by the Creator.'
Nothing more need in strictness be added : but
since it is of fundamental importance, that your full
assent should be given to the thesis which we are ad-
vocating, I will still proceed in defending it ; I will
adopt yet another method for bringing home to your
consciousness the same argument for its truth.
60 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Let there be a ' true subjective analytical ' judgment,
whether ' exhaustive ' or c partial.' It is literally impos-
sible for us to to elicit a judgment contradictory to this ;
and the proposition, which would express such contra-
dictory judgment, is simply unmeaning. This is so
evident, that it belongs to the region of Formal Logic.
By the term Z, I mean at this moment to express a
complex idea, which includes as parts of itself the
ideas A, B, and C. If this be so, to speak of Z as existing
without A, B, or C, is simply unmeaning : it is like
speaking of a ' table which is not a table,7 or 4 a friend
who is not a friend.'
Illustrative instances of this are ready to our hand,
in any number. I put before you e.g. this statement :
'there are two mutually attached friends of my ac-
quaintance, who have no desire for each other's welfare/
I beg you to apprehend fully the meaning of this pro-
position, in order that afterwards you may form some
judgment on its truth or falsehood. You will reply
of course : ' the statement has no meaning which can
cbe apprehended; one of its terms contradicts the
' other ; [ there is no corresponding judgment at all ;
* it is as though you said that there is a certain table
' which is not a table, or a certain tree which is not a
* tree.' And the same would be your answer, if I put
before you any statements which are contradictory to
'true subjective analytical ' propositions. Suppose e.g.
I said, — ' there is a certain hard substance, which offers
' no resistance to muscular pressure ; ' or l there is a cer-
'tain effect, which has no relation to its cause.' In all
such cases, the more carefully you should examine the
terms of the statement, the more irresistibly would you
recognise the fact, that it has no real meaning what-
ever.
But now on the other hand consider such a state-
ment as this : ' it is not wrong to refuse restitution of a
deposit.' Nothing surely can be more intelligible than
such a statement, though nothing can be more obviously
false. Or this : ' a child's disobedience to his parents
in indifferent matters is not wrong.' Or this : ' dis-
THE ESSENTIAL CHARACTERISTICS OF MORAL TRUTH. 61
' obedience to the Creator is not wrong or morally evil/
This last statement, like the two former, is most readily
intelligible; its meaning is only too obvious ; it is
because you at once so fully understand it, that you
feel against it such prompt and irrepressible detesta-
tion.
We proceed then to apply our principle. Since this
statement is thus readily intelligible, — since it is in the
farthest possible degree removed from the attribute
'unmeaning,7 — its contradictory is not a 'true sub-
jective analytical7 proposition. But according to our
opponents, its contradictory is a ' true subjective ana-
* lytical ' proposition. For what is its contradictory ?
this : ' disobedience to our Creator (i.e. the doing what
our Creator forbids) is morally evil.' Now it is the
exact and definite allegation of our opponents, that this
is a ' true subjective analytical 7 proposition ; that
whenever I use the term ' morally evil,' I precisely
mean ' that which the Creator forbids.7 Since therefore,
according to our opponents7 doctrine, this would be a
true subjective analytical proposition; — and since we
have fully established, that in fact it is not such a pro-
position ; — we have fully established, that our opponents'
doctrine is mistaken.
I have been here making use of the undeniable
truth, that a judgment, contradictory to a true subjective
analytical judgment, is impossible ; and that the pro-
position, which purports to express it, is unmeaning.
My argument in no respect requires me to deny, that
there are many other unmeaning propositions besides
these ; but only that these are unmeaning.
27. Now, as I remarked at starting, precisely the
same mode of argument which I have adopted in the
last number, will apply, with precisely the same force,
to the refutation of every other analysis, which has
been, or which can be, attempted, of our idea ' morally
good.7
Thus various philosophers have maintained, that
* morally evil7 signifies 'adverse to the interests of
'society.7 Take then this proposition: — 'the acting
62 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
' adversely to the interests of society is morally evil.'
Is this an ' analytical ' or a ' synthetical ' proposition ?
Plainly the latter. For (1) we understand what is
meant by ' acting injuriously to society/ hefore we
have even considered the question whether it be 'morally
evil.' And (2) the contradictory to this proposition is
most fully intelligible, however obviously false: viz.
4 the acting adversely to the interests of society is not
' morally evil.' Our proposition, therefore, is most un-
deniably synthetical. But on our opponents' view it
would be analytical ; for the ideas expressed respectively
by the subject and predicate would be precisely identi-
cal. Since, therefore, the proposition is undeniably
synthetical; — and since it is equally undeniable, that
on our opponents' view it would be analytical; — it
follows that our opponents' view is mistaken.
I may now safely leave to you the easy task, of ap-
plying precisely the same argument, in refutation of any
other attempt at analysing the idea ' morally evil.' And
we may consider therefore the thesis as incontestably
established, that this idea, and its correlative ' morally
'good,' are perfectly simple, and incapable of further
decomposition. We will proceed then, without further
delay, to the argument which we propose to build upon
that thesis.*
* It will have been seen then that self-evident moral judgments are
considered by us as being synthetical intuitions. Now I have already
(note at p. 29) expressed how totally I condemn that scepticism, which
(I believe) is at the very foundation of Kant's whole philosophy. I shall
not, therefore, be misunderstood, if I say that on a comparatively sub-
ordinate question, if I rightly understand his meaning, I cannot but
strongly concur with him. I refer to his position, that the human mind
forms various ' a priori synthetical judgments,' and that moral judgments
are in the number. The very thoughtful writer in the "Dublin Review,"
to whom I have already referred (note to p. 47), although declining through-
out to express his own moral system, yet has the following very significant
remark. He says that a certain statement of M. Laforet ' must inevitably
' force on one's mind the conclusion, that ihe subject' — i.e. the foundation
of moral obligation — 'is too difficult to be resolved otherwise, than by
' taking refuge in Kant's theory of a synthetic judgment a priori.' (D. R.
for July 1857, p. 434.) And elsewhere he says of Kant: ' a certain class of
' philosophers .... are unable to measure the height and the breadth of
' the great philosopher of Konigsberg. . . . Kant has done great good service
1 in Moral Philosophy as well as elsewhere. He has committed grave
' mistakes ; but these should not cause us to forget his good deeds' (p. 420, 1).
THE ESSENTIAL CHARACTERISTICS OF MORAL TRUTH. 63
28. Let us revert to the particular moral judgment,
stated at the opening of the Section : 4 the refusing to
4 restore my friend's jewel would be an act morally evil/
We now set ourselves to establish in order the three
following propositions. First, this moral judgment is
intuitive and not inferential. Secondly, it is a legiti-
mate intuition ; that which is intued is a real intuem.
Thirdly, that which is intued is a necessary intuem
(see n. 18, p. 42).
First, I say this moral judgment is an intuition;
it is not one of those cases mentioned in n. 2, where I
fancy that to be an intuition which is really an inference.
In those cases we can state various propositions, either
already recognised as true or now themselves intued,
which lead by way of logical consequence to the judg-
ment in question. The whole distinction between in-
tuitive judgments and inferential, I need hardly say,
turns upon this very fact. But it is perfectly impos-
sible to do this in the present case ; as any one will find
who makes the experiment. Various judgments no
doubt are formed, antecedently to the moral judgment
which we are now considering ; but they are formed,
merely as the matter on which the moral judgment is
exercised, not as premisses whereof the moral judgment
is a conclusion. Thus, before the moral judgment in
question, I have judged that 4 he who now reclaims the
4 jewel once deposited it in my hands ;' that * he formerly
4 loaded me with benefits;' that 'he is now in great
4 distress;' and the like. But no number of such judg-
ments as these, however brought into connexion with
each other, could possibly lead by way of logical in-
ference to the moral judgment founded upon them. It
is perfectly impossible, I say, to array these antecedent
judgments in any logical shape, such that the moral
judgment which we are considering can ever emerge as
a conclusion. The proof of this is obvious. That idea
For myself, I cannot profess any such acquaintance with Kant's philosophy
in its entireness, as would warrant me in holding any confident judgment
on its merits.
64 PHILOSOPHICAL INTKODUCTION.
of moral good or evil, which is the most characteristic
element of this moral judgment, is not met with ever
so distantly, in any of those antecedent judgments to
which we refer.
If indeed 4 morally evil ' were a complex idea, this
argument would not be conclusive. It might be argued
in reply, ' True, the idea " morally evil" does not occur
4 eo nomine in those anteeedent judgments ; but they
4 may nevertheless very possibly contain those simple
' ideas, whereof the complex " moral evil" is composed.
' It is very possible, then, that our moral judgment
' may be the result of a logical process.'
But * moral evil,' as we have seen, is a perfectly
simple idea ; and this objection, therefore, cannot be
made. Suppose I am placed in the circumstances
above mentioned, and that my friend reclaims his
jewel. I readily form the judgment, that ' to refuse its
' restitution would be morally evil.' The only ante-
cedent judgments, whereon this persuasion can possibly
be supposed to depend, are those judgments whereby
I am cognisant of the facts of the case. Not one of
those judgments contain the idea 'morally evil' directly
or indirectly ; while of the moral judgment, on the
other hand, this idea is the most prominent character-
istic. It is perfectly impossible, then, that this moral
judgment can result by logical process from any earlier
judgments ; or, in other words, that it can be ' inferential.'
But if not i inferential,' it is ' intuitive.'
29. Having shewn then that this moral judgment
is an intuition, our next statement shall be that it is a
legitimate intuition. In order to establish this, let us
begin by applying F. Buffier's three criteria. (See
n. 15, p. 37.)
(1.) The first of these criteria is, that the judg-
ment intued is so clear, that when we undertake either
to prove or to attack it, we can only do so by means
of propositions, which are manifestly neither clearer
nor more certain. This most undoubtedly holds here.
Suppose you set about proving to me my duty of re-
storing this jewel ; what proposition can even be ima-
THE ESSENTIAL CHARACTERISTICS OF MORAL TRUTH. 65
gined, which could serve you as a premiss ? which
could strike me as in any respect clearer or more
certain, than the very conclusion at which you would
aim ? If I do not see my duty at once, it may very
safely be said that no imaginable course of argument
could make me see it.
(2.) The second criterion is, that the judgment
intued shall be one, so universally received among men
in all times and places and by every sort of character,
that those who attack it shall be plainly, as compared
with the rest of mankind, fewer than one to one
hundred or to one thousand. The moral judgment
before us does more than satisfy this criterion ; for
among all the men possessed of reason, who ever lived
or who ever will live, not one could be found to call
it in question.
(3.) The third, and perhaps the most important,
criterion suggested by the Jesuit philosopher, is the
following ; that the judgment shall be so strongly im-
pressed on our minds, that we always conform our
conduct to it, notwithstanding the refinements of those
who imagine a contrary opinion : which very men in-
deed themselves act conformably, not to their opinions
thus imagined, but to those first truths which are univer-
sally received. Now to apply this. Certain ingenious
philosophers maintain, that he who keeps back a deposit
may legitimately be regarded by us with hatred, such
as that which we feel towards a foreign invader, as an
enemy to the peace and welfare of society. Or again,
they say that he may be regarded by us with pity, as
a man who has calculated wrongly his own chances of
happiness. But they add, that the judgment which we
call that of moral disapprobation; — our judgment that
his conduct is morally evil, and consequently deserving
of reprobation and punishment; — that all this is un-
founded and delusive. I ask, in conformity with F.
Buffier, can these philosophers themselves carry out
their principles consistently on one single occasion ?
Is it possible for them to hear of conduct so flagitious,
66 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
without the judgment spontaneously arising in their
mind, and influencing their whole demeanour to the
offender, that it is flagitious ? I repeat, not merely
that it is injurious to society or injurious to the agent,
but that it is also flagitious ? So much on F. Buffier's
criteria.
But again. Suppose we wish to establish, that some
mathematical axiom is an intuem : how should we set
about the enterprise ? For instance, ' every rectilineal
4 figure which has three sides has three angles :' how
do we know that our intuition of this verity is legitimate ?
I suppose it is a sufficient answer to say, that every
one, who possesses an intellect sufficiently cultivated
to understand the terms of the proposition, by the con-
stitution of his nature must assent to it. To apprehend
precisely what is meant by a rectilineal figure of three
sides, and again of three angles, — in other words, to
apprehend what is meant by the subject and the predi-
cate respectively, — this may require some little mental
effort. But so soon as any one has apprehended this,
he forms by necessity that judgment, which recognises
that the subject and predicate agree together. I am not
aware that any further proof than this can be brought,
for the legitimacy of this mathematical intuition.
Now a proof in every respect equivalent is avail-
able, to establish the legitimacy of that moral judg-
ment which we have been considering. 4 He to whom
a kind and bountiful friend has entrusted a deposit,
ought to restore it when reclaimed ; or acts wickedly
if he refuses to do so.' To enter sufficiently into the
meaning of this sentence, — in other words to master
the circumstances of the case, — may require some
little effort ; but any one who is enabled to master it,
by the constitution of his nature forms necessarily the
above judgment. I may add also, that any one who
Jinds himself under similar circumstances, and who by
consequence penetrates most thoroughly into the con-
ditions of the case, forms the relevant moral judgment
with far greater keenness and promptitude, than that
THE ESSENTIAL CHARACTERISTICS OF MORAL TRUTH. 67
with which he would form any mathematical judgment
whatever.
30. The moral evil, then, of refusing restitution is
an intuem. I now lastly maintain that it is a necessary
intuem.
It is admitted by all Catholic philosophers, that
mathematical axioms are necessarily true. I ask, how
they would profess to establish this important state-
ment ? For I am convinced that any test, which would
be serviceable to their purpose, would quite as fully
establish the necessary character of those moral axioms,
which we are here considering. I suppose, in the case
of mathematical axioms, they would put the thing in
some such way as the following. When I intue that
a rectilineal figure of three sides has three angles,
I intue this in the first instance, simply with reference
to that particular three-sided figure, which I have
summoned up in my imagination. Yet a moment's
further consideration shews me, that the proposition
is not confined exclusively to this figure ; that it can be
predicated with equal truth of every three-sided recti-
lineal figure, which ever did, which ever will, which
ever possibly can, exist. The test, whereby we deter-
mine that the axiom is legitimatelyintuedas necessary,
is precisely this absolute universality of the judgment
which we form concerning it.
Now in the moral case before us, this identical test
applies in all its fulness. Supposing me to be circum-
stanced as originally supposed, I intue in the first
instance that I am under the moral obligation of re-
storing the jewel. But a moment's consideration
enables me to carry the judgment much further. On
reflection I further intue, that this obligation is by no
means peculiar to myself, and to this present case ;
I intue that every one would most certainly be under
the same obligation, who in any time or place should
be found under the same circumstances.
One explanation only has here to be made. When
we say ' under the same circumstances/ we suppose
that the whole circumstances, which can have any
68 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
bearing on the morality of the act, are identical in the
various instances. I might imagine the case, e. g. in
which this friend of mine, to my certain knowledge,
should require the jewel, for the purpose of committing
some great crime. To say the least, I should no longer
intue with any clearness that it would be my duty under
such circumstances to restore it. But I do intue with
the greatest clearness, that, so long as the circumstances
bearing on the morality of the act remain the same,
every rational being, in every time and place, would
be under the same obligation with myself.
31. We intue it then as a necessary truth, that
under the supposed circumstances the jewel ought to
be restored ; that its retention would be sinful or
morally evil. Nothing of course would be easier, than
to mention various other combinations of circumstances,
under which also the path of duty would be marked
out with extreme clearness. In every such case, the
arguments which have been brought forward in this
Section retain their entire force ; and the same conclu-
sion therefore holds. I say, we legitimately intue it
as a necessary truth, that in every such combination of
circumstances a certain course '-ought' to be pursued ;
or in other words, that there is a c moral obligation' of
pursuing it ; or in other words again, that pursuing
any different course would be ' morally evil.'
Since then it is a necessary truth, that there are
various combinations of circumstances (be they more
or fewer) under which a certain line of conduct would
be morally evil, one most obvious, yet most important,
proposition results.
It is a necessary truth then, that there is such an
attribute as we denote by the term ' morally evil ;' an
attribute, which is not a combination of other simpler
attributes, but is itself perfectly simple ; an attri-
bute, which appertains to certain courses of conduct,
pursued by certain beings, under certain circumstances.
I am not, of course, maintaining it as a necessary truth,
that there are such beings, or that they are ever placed
in such circumstances. But we have shewn it to be a
THE ESSENTIAL CHARACTERISTICS OF MORAL TRUTH. 69
necessary truth, that if these beings exist, and if they
are placed in such circumstances, certain acts done by
them would be morally evil. On precisely the same
principles, it is a necessary truth that a second class
of acts done by them would be ' morally good ; ' and a
third class, again, c morally preferable' to certain others
with which we may compare them. This body of
Necessary Truth, whether greater or smaller, we call
Moral Truth.
32. There are two theses then, for which we have
been principally and prominently contending in this
Section. The first is, that 'morally evil,' and its
correlative ' morally good,' are simple ideas. The
second is, that the applicability of these respective
ideas to certain acts, done under certain circumstances,
is intrinsecally necessary. There are many philoso-
phers, who hold the latter of these theses without
holding the former; who regard Moral Truth as
necessary, but do not consider the idea of moral good-
ness to be simple. But there are none whatever who
hold the former thesis apart from the latter : or, in
other words, every thinker, who regards the idea
' morally good ' as simple, proceeds to the further con-
clusion, that Moral Truth is necessary. The whole
body of philosophers then, whether Catholic or non-
Catholic, who are opposed to the principles of this
Section, are precisely those (neither more nor fewer)
who deny that the idea ' morally good ' is simple.
These philosophers may be divided into two classes,
essentially different from each other. Those of one
class consider that the idea in question may be analysed,
as expressing some relation to God ; * those of the latter
* It may be objected that I myself regard the idea as including the
idea of some relation to God ; because I regard all Moral Truth as necessary,
and also hold that all Necessary Truth is identical with God (see n. 19). I
reply thus. I hold most firmly that all Moral Truth is identical with God ;
and I hope to enlarge on this proposition in the following Section. But it
by no means follows from this, that the idea 'morally good' includes the
idea of some relation to God. Mathematical Truth is no less necessary
than Moral ; and accordingly the intuem that every pentagon has five angles
is a truth identical with God. Yet no one will say that the idea 'pentagon,'
or the idea ' angle,' includes the idea of some relation to God.
70 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
class deny this, but consider that it may be truly
analysed in some other way.
Of these two classes, the latter, as it seems to me,
in no way calls for any more detailed refutation than
has been already given. Take for instance the follow-
ing proposition : — 'It is morally evil to disobey God.'
Then consider how those philosophers stand, in regard
to this proposition, who explain ' morally evil ' as
signifying c adverse to the interests of society.7 They
are bound to maintain that, when we say ' disobedience
to God is morally evil,' we mean neither more nor less
than that * such disobedience is adverse to the interests
of society.' There is no Theist in the world, who will
not see how obviously and on the surface absurd is
such a statement. Nay, any atheist surely of the most
ordinary candour will admit the same. Any atheist, I
say, of the most ordinary candour will admit, that if we
were created by a Being Infinite in all Perfections, dis-
obedience to such a Being would be c morally evil,' in a
sense totally distinct from ' adverse to the interests of
society.' And the very same remark holds in reference
to the above proposition, whatever other analysis of the
idea c morally evil ' philosophers of this class may
attempt. I need only add, therefore, that no Catholic
writers are to be found in this number.
But the case is very different with philosophers of
the former class. I am thoroughly convinced indeed,
that the more carefully we examine their doctrine,
the more irresistibly we shall be convinced of its total
untenableness ; still no one can say that, like the
former doctrine, it carries absurdity on its face. Now
we shall be engaged, throughout the next Section, in
considering the relation which exists between God and
Moral Truth. It will be an important part therefore
of that Section, to pass under our review those various
attempts at analysing the idea 'morally evil,' which
have been made by these philosophers.
71
SECTION III.
On the Relation between God and Moral Truth.
33. There are two different senses in which the
title of this Section may be understood. It may be
understood as raising the question, 'What are those
propositions concerning God, which stand as part of
that fabric, which we call Moral Truth?' And this
question would be answered, by stating e.g. that 4 the
obeying and loving God are our highest duty;' that
4 God's Commands, on matters otherwise the most
indifferent, are of peremptory obligation;' that ' God,
by His interference, may make many acts morally good,
which would otherwise be morally evil ; ' &c. &c. These
statements, and others of a similar kind, are most
highly important, and will be found drawn out (I hope)
at sufficient length, in the 6th and 7th Sections of this
Chapter. They are not however those statements,
with which the present Section is concerned. What
we are here to consider, is the relation which exists,
between God on the one hand, and Moral Truth as a
whole on the other hand. Moral Truth is Necessary
Truth ; He is the One Necessary Being : we are here
to enquire, what is the relation, between that One
Necessary Being and this particular part of Necessary
Truth. I intend first to state what appear to me the
dictates of sound Philosophy on this question ; and
afterwards to examine those views on the matter,
different from my own, which various theologians and
philosophers have advocated from time to time.
I shall make two assumptions throughout this Sec-
tion. I shall assume (1) that Moral Truth, as appli-
72 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
cable to those circumstances in which God has placed
us, is of considerable extent. In other words I shall
assume, that the number of acts is considerable, elicited
by us men under our present circumstances, of which
it may truly be said that ' A is necessarily virtuous ; 7
that c B is necessarily wicked ; ' that ' C is necessarily
preferable to D.' And I shall assume (2) that Justice,
Veracity, Benevolence, Humility, Purity, are to us
virtuous ends of action, while their opposites can never
be so. Both these truths will be (I trust) fully
explained and established in the sixth Section ; and it
is in no respect illogical to assume them here, because
the arguments of that Section in no single respect
depend on any thing which will here be said. This
assumption is made convenient, and almost necessary,
by the fact, that all the Catholic schools of Philosophy
agree in the above propositions : so that, unless we
make these assumptions, we cannot fairly bring the
tests of those schools into mutual comparison.
In fact, the logical place of this and the following
Section would be between what now stand as the sixth
and seventh. But I anticipate the logical order, for
what seems to me a very sufficient reason. No devout
Theist could apply himself, calmly and without em-
barrassment, to investigating the full extent of Moral
Truth, — until he had first satisfied himself on the matter
which we are now to consider. Before all other things
he will wish to understand, the relations which exist
between those moral doctrines which are to be the one
guide of his life, and that Almighty Creator, whom he
regards as its One Lord, Governor, and Disposer.
This relation being once thoroughly understood, he
will proceed tranquilly and at ease with the interrupted
thread of argument.
However, there will be no kind of inconvenience,
should any of you prefer it, in your studying the fifth
and sixth Sections before you begin the present. In
that case, you will have mastered the proof of those
two propositions which we here assume.
34. Now, we have already considered the relation
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 73
which exists between God and Necessary Truth in
general ; taking Mathematical Truth as our particular
instance : (see n. 19) I will ask you then to consult
again that part of the first Section, and refresh your
memory of the principles there stated ; as our business
here of course is merely the applying those principles
to the particular case of Moral Truth.
And here, as in the former instance, we will begin
by considering two propositions which are implied by
the word ' necessary,' as to the relation between such
truths and Almighty God.
(1.) Necessary truths are not derived from the fact
that God necessarily iritues them ; the very contrary
holds. God necessarily intues that Justice and Bene-
volence are virtuous ends of action, because they
necessarily are so. Hence we may again quote the
same passage from Vasquez, which we cited in n. 19:
4 ante omne (Dei) Imperium, ante omnem Voluntatem,
est regula qusedam harum actionum, quae suapte natura
constat.'
(2.) It is not only certain that necessary truths
are not derived from God's intuition of them, but in
some sense they seem to limit His Power. God cannot
create a triangle, whose angles shall together exceed
two right angles ; neither can He create a being, who
shall be under an obligation of cultivating the disposi-
tions of pride, malice, and impurity.
These propositions then hold, in regard to Moral
Truth, no less than to Mathematical. As God is
necessarily gazing on the latter through all Eternity, so
also He is gazing on the former. In accordance with
His Attribute l Verus in cognoscendo,' He intues with
the most unfailing accuracy the precise moral quali-
ties, which appertain to all the various actions of man-
kind. Nay, indeed He intues immeasurably more
than this. He intues what would be morally evil,
what would be of obligation, what would be preferable,
under every possible circumstance in which any rational
being could be placed. It is this vast assemblage of
verities, to which we may most appropriately give the
74 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
name ' Moral Truth ;' and its whole mass is evidently
as vast, and as apparently inexhaustible, as the whole
mass of Mathematical Truth.
(3.) But now Moral Truth, as distinct from
any other part of Necessary Truth, gives scope to
another Attribute of God altogether, as well as to the
Attribute c Yerus in cognoscendo ; ' it gives scope to the
Attribute * Sanctus.' In virtue of that Attribute, God
necessarily detests that which is intrinsecally evil ; and
necessarily prefers that which is intrinsecally prefer-
able. It is the very excellence of God's Intellect, as we
have seen, that it is necessarily determined by what is
true ; and so it is the very excellence of His Will, that
it is necessarily determined by what is good.
Here then again, as in the case of Mathematical
Truth, we make one final enquiry. Is the assertion
endurable, that God is gazing through all Eternity on
some body of Necessary Truth, external to, and inde-
pendent of, Himself? Nay, that He is regulating
necessarily His whole conduct by a Rule, which is co-
eternal with Himself, and yet distinct ? which is equally
necessary with Himself, and yet not Himself?
It is quite ^credible. This great mass of neces-
sary Moral Truth, is not distinct from God Himself;
but in some way, wholly incomprehensible to us, it is
identified with Him. In gazing on it, in regulating
necessarily His conduct by its dictates, He gazes on
nothing external to Himself; He constitutes nothing,
external to Himself, as the authoritative rule of His
actions ; He is but penetrating and comprehending the
depths of His Own Nature.
This conclusion, that Moral Truth is identical with
God, is based on the same grounds, which establish the
parallel conclusion in the case of Mathematical Truth :
in this case, as in that, such a conclusion is the only
possible mode of avoiding objections, otherwise insuper-
able. But there are reasons in this case, of quite a
different kind, which also press most strongly towards
the same conclusion.
In order however to appreciate those reasons, it
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 75
will be necessary that you shall have studied the views
advocated in our sixth Section. In that Section we
speak of those various intuitions, whereby we become
(faintly and very partially) acquainted with that body of
Moral Truth, which concerns ourselves. These intui-
tions, though at best most partial and incomplete, yet
grow indefinitely (as we there argue) in accuracy, in
distinctness, in number, by means of consistent moral
action. In proportion as they do so, they more and
more point to Moral Truth as no mere abstraction, but
as identified with some Superior Being. I recognize
Moral Truth, as an authority which legitimately claims
my most abject and unreserved submission ; which
possesses by right an absolutely paramount and inde-
feasible claim on my allegiance. Is it possible to think
that such an authority as this is a mere abstraction ?
"Who can suppose it ? Surely, in intuing such an
authority, we intue a Personal Being: and so the
unanimous testimony of mankind proclaims. Indeed,
among all the various ways whereby men are drawn to
a knowledge of their Creator, there is probably none so
universally efficacious, as that which leads them to
Him, through their obeying the Moral Voice within
them.*
Such then is the relation, as it appears to me, or
rather the identity, which exists between God and
moral truth. Those innumerable verities, — whether
intuems or deduced from intuems, — which together
constitute the body of Moral Truth, are identical (each
and all) with Almighty God. In gazing on Himself,
He gazes on them ; His Intellect is necessarily deter-
mined to them as true ; His Will is necessarily deter-
mined to them as good. As ' Verus in cognoscendo,'
He intues that the opposites to Justice, Veracity,
Benevolence, are morally evil ; as 4 Sanctus,' He is Just,
Veracious, Benevolent. He cannot be called, in any
proper sense, the Originator, or Author, or Foundation,
of Moral Truth ; any more than He could be called the
* See the second part of the quotation from Father Newman in the
note at p. 143.
76 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Originator, or Author, or Foundation, of His Own
Aseity, of His Own Indestructibleness, of His Own
Omnipotence. Moral Truth is not some distinct thing,
originated by God; it is God.
35. This is the one doctrine, as it seems to me,
which necessarily results from combining two beliefs :
(1) the belief that God exists; (2) the belief that
' morally good' is a perfectly simple idea. Those on
the other hand, who regard the latter idea as containing
in some shape the idea of God, are led to quite a
different doctrine from ours, on the relation between
God and Moral Truth. And the soundness of our own,
as compared with theirs, will still more clearly appear,
by our proceeding to criticise their various systems.
Before doing this in detail, it may be interesting
to inquire, whether there be any propositions, on which
these philosophers agree with each other, while differing
from us. There is, of course, the fundamental pro-
position, which is the very point at issue ; viz. that the
idea l morally good7 includes the idea ' God.' But are
there any others ?
(1.) They, would all agree in saying, that God is in
some sense the Author, or Originator, or Foundation,
of Moral Truth ; that the latter is not simply identical
with Him, but in some sense distinct.
(2.) Although they would agree with us in holding
that, whenever I form a true moral judgment, I have
the idea of God in my thoughts ; yet they would totally
differ from us, in their way of explaining this statement.
They would maintain, that on such occasions I have
the idea of God in my thoughts, because the idea
' morally good' or ' evil3 includes it. But we maintain
that on such occasions I have the idea of God in my
thoughts, because the moral judgment itself includes
the idea of 'necessity;' and the idea of ' necessity ' is
in fact the idea of ' God.' Let the moral judgment be
expressed in a proposition : — they regard the idea of God
as contained in the predicate ; we, as contained in the
copula.*
* See note to p. 69.
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 77
There may probably enough be other propositions,
held in common by them, and rejected by us : but none
other at present occur to my mind. Without further
preamble then, let us proceed to consider the various
doctrines, put forth respectively by these various
philosophers.
36. The first system opposed to our own which
comes before us, is in fact (as we shall presently see),
divisible into two theories, essentially different from
each other. But we will first consider it, so far as it
belongs in common to both those theories. It is some-
times pithily expressed by the seeming truism, ' every
law implies a lawgiver.' How far this is a truism,
and indeed how far it is true, depends on the sense
which you affix to the word ' law ' ; and it need not be
discussed in this place. But those who adopt the
phrase commonly mean to say, that all moral obligation
implies the existence of some Being, possessed of
legitimate authority, who imposes that obligation.
The thesis then, intended by these philosophers, is
this : ' Whenever an act is said to be ' of moral obliga-
' tion,' such a proposition cannot be true in any other
4 sense, than that it is commanded by the Creator.'
Now, they do not, and indeed they cannot, deny
that the phrase 'moral obligation' is altogether cor-
relative to the phrase c morally evil/ Whatever is
4 morally evil ' we are self-evidently under the ' moral
' obligation' to avoid ; the violation of a 'moral obliga-
' tion ' is self-evidently ' morally evil.' Their theory
therefore is the following; and so I have no doubt they
would themselves admit. ' The only sense in which it
fc can be truly said that an act is c morally evil,' is that
< it is c forbidden by the Creator.' The only sense in
' which it can be truly called of ' obligation,' is that it
6 is ' commanded by the Creator.' The only sense in
4 which it can be truly called ' morally preferable to
' another,' is that it is ' counselled by the Creator in
' preference to that other.' '
Now I have already observed, that this general view
is divisible into two theories, essentially different from
78 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
eacli other. The first of these indeed would be
renounced with horror by every Catholic : still, since
it is in itself imaginable, — since it was at one time
actually held by some few Catholics, — and since it has
met with countenance from several eminent Protestants,
— we must not altogether omit its mention. According
to this theory, * those Commands of the Creator and
1 those Counsels, which constitute Morality, are free
6 Commands and Counsels. Cruelty, lying, and im-
4 purity, are wrong, because the Creator has freely
' forbidden them, and for no other reason ; He might
4 as readily have counselled or commanded them.'
On this blasphemous statement, I shall say no
more : for three reasons. First, no Catholic now-a-days
dreams of holding it. Secondly, the argument in the
last Section for the necessity of Moral Truth directly
refutes it. Thirdly, the chief arguments to be adduced
against the second adverse theory, are a fortiori
applicable against this ; as I will show in the next
number.
37. The second adverse theory then, and one held
by many Catholics, is this : ' Morality is constituted,
' indeed, by the Creator's Commands and Counsels, as
above explained ; but such Commands and Counsels
are necessary and not free. The Creator, by His
Nature, is necessitated to forbid injustice, impurity,
and the whole catalogue of vices ; He is necessitated
to command or counsel our cultivation of the opposite
4 virtues. Still, the only sense in which an act can be
4 called with truth 'morally evil' is, that such act is
' forbidden, — necessarily however forbidden, — by the
' Creator.' Against this theory I will adduce six
different arguments, any one of which by itself would
be amply sufficient to refute it. The third of these
arguments indeed depends partially on the second ;
but otherwise they are mutually independent.
(1.) Our first argument shall be merely a re-
production of what has been urged in the previous
Section. We will endeavour to bring the argument of
that Section home to our opponents, by thus addressing
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 79
them. You must hold one or other of the three fol-
lowing positions. Firstly, you may say that the term
4 morally evil' does not, in any man's mouth, stand for
a simple idea, but a complex one ; viz. ' forbidden by
4 the Creator.' Secondly, you may admit that when
men form e. g. the judgment, ' retention of a deposit is
4 morally evil,' the idea c morally evil' is simple ; but
you may add, that this universally-formed judgment is
a totally mistaken one. Or, lastly, your position may
be more complicated : you may say that with some
men the idea 'morally evilf is simple, but that with
others it merely signifies ' forbidden by the Creator.'
And then, since all mankind do undoubtedly judge that
' the retention of a deposit is morally evil,' you will
add that the former class of men are mistaken in
forming their judgment, and the latter class correct.
Let us consider in order these three positions.
If you occupy the first of these positions, I will beg
you to consider this judgment : 4 disobedience to the
4 Creator is morally evil.' According to you, this is a
true subjective ^analytical proposition; and its contra-
dictory therefore is simply unmeaning. Accordingly,
the proposition, ' it is not morally evil to disobey the
4 Creator,' will not be regarded by you as expressing a
false judgment, a monstrous or detestable judgment, but
simply no judgment at all. You must maintain, I say,
that this proposition is as simply unmeaning^ as the
proposition, l There is a certain effect which has no
* relation to its cause ; ' or, ' there are two mutually
* attached friends, who are perfectly indifferent to each
4 other's welfare;' or 'my parents were in no way
4 instrumental to my birth;' or any other such self-
contradictory proposition. Seen. 26, p. 60. Thereductio
ad absurdum is of course complete.
Your second imaginable position, as above stated,
is totally different. According to this position, you
will admit that every intelligent man, who should
understand the circumstances of the case, would at
once consider the retention of a deposit to be ' morally
4 evil;' and that the idea 'morally evil,' contained in
80 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Ills judgment, is a simple idea. But then you must go
on to hold, that this judgment, so universally formed by
all intelligent men, is a totally mistaken judgment ;
nay, that most serious evil would result, — nothing less
than derogation from God's Absolute Sovereignty, — if
this judgment were admitted to be well founded and
true.* Surely, on reflection, you must admit your-
selves, that to discredit the spontaneous and universal
judgment of all mankind, is to overthrow (so far as
you can overthrow it) your only possible barrier
against the most desolating scepticism. The axioms
of geometry themselves have no stronger foundation,
than that which you thus denounce as worthless and
treacherous.
Lastly, if you occupy the third position, you
maintain that some men, but not all, conceive ' morally
c evil' as a simple idea. I would ask, Who are the
exceptions? are you yourselves such? have you ever
met with such? Revert once more to our old pro-
position, 'disobedience to the Creator is not morally
1 evil :' do you yourselves regard it as a simply
unmeaning proposition? a proposition which conveys
no imaginable sense, and which no one therefore can
censure without absurdity? Do you believe that any
intelligent man ever existed, who could so regard it ?
You must answer in the negative ; and yet such
negative answer is simply subversive of your position.
(2.) Our second argument shall be the following.
Perhaps the highest and most vital proposition in
all Theology is the following : ' Our Creator is All-
holy.' But on our opponents' theory, this proposition
is literally destroyed and emptied of all meaning. Now
to shew this.
There are various acts recognised by all mankind
as morally evil ; whether they be offences against
Justice, Veracity, Benevolence, or some other virtue.
* Those who maintain the theory which I am opposing, universally
regard the theory which I advocate, as derogating from God's absolute Sove-
reignty ; inasmuch as it maintains the existence of moral obligation, apart
from God's Commands.
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 81
Our opponents maintain, that in calling these morally
I'vil, it is only meant that they are forbidden by the
Creator ; we on the contrary maintain that they are
intrinsecally eyil, apart from all reference to the
Creator's Will.
Our opponents must necessarily, and do in fact,
nl ways proceed to say, that when I speak of some man,
A or B, as morally good in such or such a degree, I mean
no more than this, that in such or such a degree he
conforms his conduct to the Creator's Wishes. But we
maintain, that when I speak of A or B as morally good
in such or such a degree, I mean that he possesses in
such or such a degree those qualities, which are in-
trinsecally virtuous, independently of the Creator's
Wishes ; Justice, Veracity, Benevolence, and the rest.
We understand by 'holiness' or 'moral goodness,'
the possession of certain qualities intrinsecally vir-
tuous ; they understand by it, the habit of conformity
to the Creator's Wishes. The question is now to be
decided, whether their explanation or ours be the true
one.
Now let us again enunciate that solemn truth, which
is the very foundation of all possible religion : — ' The
'Creator is All-holy ;' or (which is of course synony-
mous) 'possesses Moral Goodness in the most perfect
* possible way.' What can be more satisfactory, than the
sense which we affix to this proposition ? ' The Creator
'possesses, in the most perfect possible way, Justice,
' Veracity, Benevolence, and all those other qualities
4 which are intrinsecally virtuous/ But what must be
our opponents3 version of this proposition ? ' The
'Creator possesses, in the most perfect possible way,
4 the quality of always conforming His conduct to His
4 Own Wishes.1 Or to put it otherwise, this most solemn
and fundamental truth, the Creator's Sanctity, becomes
in their mouths no more nor less than this ; 'the
4 Creator does in every respect exactly as He likes.'
Indeed let any one of common sense ponder these
two propositions ; what can be more monstrous than to
say that they are equivalent ?
G
82 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Prop. I. ' The Creator possesses Moral Goodness in
the most perfect possible way.'
Prop. II. ' The Creator always does exactly what
He likes/
The one strength of our opponents is their view (I
think of course a most mistaken one) of what is due to
piety. How singularly significant, that their doctrine
issues at once in a conclusion, so frightfully revolting
to piety !
(3.) The great doctrine, for which our present
opponents are jealous, is the Creator's Absolute Sove-
reignty over the creature ; the main reason for their
dislike of our theory, is their belief that it is prejudicial
to that doctrine. I am now, however, about to argue,
that our theory is the only method of establishing that
very doctrine, for which they are so zealous ; and that
their theory is wholly subversive of it.
The doctrine of this Absolute Sovereignty may be
expressed thus : — 'In all possible cases it is of moral
' obligation that the creature obey the Creator.' This
is the judgment which we are now carefully to consider,
for the purpose of investigating the grounds on which
it rests. Our opponents regard it as even an analytical
judgment; they hold that both subject and predicate
contain the very same idea. But we maintain, against
them, not only (1) that it is synthetical and not ana-
lytical ; but (2) that even as a synthetical truth, it is
not intued but deduced. Undoubtedly it seems at first
glance, that the judgment in question is very obviously
and immediately intued ; yet a very little thought will
suffice to shew that the case is otherwise. A very little
consideration will suffice to shew, that a most important
qualification is always understood ; and that the truth
really intued is this : ' it is of moral obligation to obey
c the Holy Creator.' Let us first vindicate this state-
ment, and then shew its bearing on our argument.
I maintain, then, that we never form the judgment
'our Creator ought to be obeyed,' in that unqualified
sense which would include a morally evil creator. Yet it
is perfectly imaginable, that some wicked demon might
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 83
possess the power of calling into existence rational
creatures. We are all of course very well aware,
that such a hypothesis is intrinsecally impossible ; but
many a thing is imaginable, though it be intrinsecally
impossible. Take as an instance of this, any one of
Euclid's ' reductiones ad absurdum.' Take e.g. the
case, where he is wishing to prove it as an intrinse-
cally necessary truth, that if the angle A B C is equal
to the angle A C B, the straight line A B is equal
to the straight line A C. (Book I. Prop. 6.) He
says, 'for if not,- let us suppose, if possible, that the
'straight line AB is greater than the straight line
4 A C.' He is calling on us to imagine that very thing,
which he is going to prove intrinsecally impossible.
And so here : that an evil being can have creative
power, is intrinsecally impossible ; but it is readily
enough imaginable.
Let us imagine then, that certain rational beings
had been created by some demon, who commands them
to cultivate diligently the dispositions of pride, vindic-
tiveness, mendacity, and impurity ; threatening them
with the extremity of his anger if they refused to obey.
Do we hold that in such a case compliance would be a
duty ? — that they would be under the strict obligation
of practising mendacity, injustice, and impurity accord-
ingly ? — of hating each other with all their hearts? —
in one word, of seeking by every possible means to
please this detestable demon ? Yet all this would be
so, if it were really true, that so soon as I recognise
any being for my creator, I at once legitimately intue
an obligation of obeying him.
On what ground then do we hold, as true and
necessary, the judgment that ' it is of moral obligation to
' obey the Creator ?' By inference, not by intuition.
Whatever philosophical process be chosen for establish-
ing God's Existence, that process gives us warrant for
the requisite premiss. In virtue of that process, we
hold it as a necessary truth, that He, Who Alone has
the power of creating, is intrinsecally Holy. A syl-
logism then arises : —
84 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
* It is of moral obligation to obey in all respects a
< Holy Creator.
* He, Who Alone can be a Creator, is essentially Holy .
Conclusion. ' It is of moral obligation to obey in
all respects our Creator.'
And now comes the point of this third argument
against our opponents. They are precluded from the
use of this syllogism ; and by consequence they are pre-
cluded from establishing that Absolute Sovereignty of
God, for which they are so commendably zealous. How
precluded? Thus: There is no intuitive judgment,
such as the major in the foregoing syllogism, to which
they can consistently appeal. With them, if they
would argue consistently, a 'holy creator/ can only
mean a ' creator who acts in every respect exactly as
he wishes.' See arg. 2. But in this sense of the word,
the creating demon above supposed is as absolutely
holy, as is our Adorable God Himself; for he acts
quite as unreservedly in accordance witli his own
wishes. Now no one will say, that it would be of
moral obligation to obey in all respects such a creator
as him ; far less would any one say, that we recognise
intuitively such an obligation. We cannot possibly then
regard it as an intuem, according to our opponents'
sense of the word ' holy/ that it is of moral obligation
to obey in all respects a holy creator. It is absolutely
impossible then for them, according to their theory, to
establish that doctrine of God's Absolute Sovereignty,
which is in their eyes, and most deservedly, so precious
and all-important.*
* It may be thoughtlessly objected to this whole argument, that an evil
creator would have given me faculties, which should mistake evil for good,
and good for evil. This most superficial objection will be considered in the
present Section ; here, therefore, the following brief remarks may suffice.
We have already seen (Sec. 1) that it is our existing faculties which cor-
respond to objective truth ; and that any imaginable faculties which should
be at variance with them, would (so far) declare what is objectively
false. Accordingly, the mode in which we are to arrive at truth on this
matter, is to consider how far our existing faculties would declare, that
obedience is due to a creating demon.
Dr. Brownson, on totally different grounds, would be prepared (I sup-
pose) to question the argument in the text. So at least it may be inferred
from the following passage, which occurs in his Review of Jan. 1 859 : —
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 85
(4.) My fourth argument is perfectly distinct from
any one of the previous three. How am I enabled to
arrive at the knowledge, that my Creator does in fact
command me to cultivate the dispositions, e. g. of
Justice, Veracity, and Benevolence ? or that He Him-
self possesses those qualities ? I must arrive at this
knowledge, either by Reason or by Revelation,
If you suppose this knowledge to be obtained by
Reason, I ask by what process of Reason ? I never
heard of any process except this. I first recognise by
Reason (whether intuitively or inferentially) that our
Creator is a Being Infinite in all Perfections. I then
accept, as another truth declared by Reason, that Sanc-
tity is a Perfection, and that Sanctity includes these
qualities of Justice, Benevolence, and the rest. Hence
I conclude that our Creator possesses these qualities.
But there is no process of Reason imaginable, which
can shew that there is a Perfection called Sanctity,
except that which shews that certain things are in
themselves morally evil, apart from God's Prohibition.
This has been shewn under our second argument. You
see then (1) I must recognise by Reason that there is
a perfection called Sanctity, before I can infer that my
Creator possesses these qualities; and (2) I must know
that certain things are morally evil apart from God's
Prohibition, before I can recognise by Reason that there
is a perfection called Sanctity. I must know therefore
that these things are independently evil, before I can
discover by Reason that God prohibits them.
Let us pass then to the other supposition, that
" * Therefore,' said Winslow, ' nothing is gained by the attempt to found
the Sovereignty of God on his intrinsic Justice, Goodness, Love, distinguished
from his Omnipotence, or Creative Power. Goodness, Justice, Love, so dis-
tinguished, give the law according to which the sovereign power must be
exercised, if you will ; but they do not give dominion itself. If, per impos-
sibile, some other power had created us, we might still love and revere God,
for what He is in and of Himself: but He would have no right to command
us as a sovereign, for in that case we should not be His creatures, but
another's.'
" ' If, then, the Devil had created us, we should have been bound to obey
the Devil,' concluded De Bonneville.
" ' Give the Devil his due, is a maxim one often hears repeated,' replied
Father John. ' If the Devil were an independent being and were really our
86 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
by Eevelation alone we know of God's commanding
Justice, Benevolence, and the rest. No Catholic of
course would venture to take this alternative ; but
it is well nevertheless to consider it on grounds of
Reason. We ask then at once, by what imaginable
means of information can we know of any such Reve-
lation, as coming from our Creator ? You will say
creator, we should be his, and bound to obey his commands. But the sup-
rition is absurd. The Devil could create us only on the supposition that
is not himself created ; that he is real and necessary being ; and if real
and necessary being, he cannot be evil, but must be good ; and hence not the
Devil but God.' "
In this extract, two totally different propositions are stated, which require
separate treatment. The first is, that if per impossibile God were not our
Creator, He would have no right to command us as Sovereign. This I
fully admit : it is not on His being Holy, but on His being our Holy Creator ',
that His full claims on our allegiance are founded.
But the second proposition is very different from this : viz. that if
per impossibile the Devil were our Creator, we should be bound to obey
his commands. With the greatest deference to Dr. Brownson's eminent
philosophical power, I cannot but dissent most strongly from this proposi-
tion. Let us suppose e.g. a wicked creator commanding me to lie. On
what ground would Dr. Brownson rest my duty of obedience ? On the
following syllogism : —
' Whatever my creator commands, however wicked he may be, is of moral
obligation.'
* But he now commands me to lie.'
Therefore, ' This lie is now of moral obligation.'
Now I totally deny that the major premiss of this syllogism is declared
by Reason at all. But let me first suppose, for argument's sake, that it
were; still Reason declares, and with no less certainty (to say the very least),
that lying is intrinsecally evil. The obligation to abstain from a lie, I say,
is declared by Reason with no less clearness, than is the obligation to obey
a wicked creator. Even then if we granted Dr. Brownson his premiss, the
very utmost which would follow would be something far short of his con-
clusion : it would follow, net that we owe simple obedience to this command,
but that we are under two contradictory obligations in regard to it. Nothing
can be more certain, than that if a wicked creator commanded that which
is intrinsecally evil, we should be under the indefeasible obligation of
disobeying and defying him. This would hold true, even if it were also
true, that we should (on that impossible supposition) be under the inde-
feasible obligation of obeying him. Nor, of course, is there any difficulty
in the supposition, that, if we imagine an intrinsecally impossible hypothesis,
two contradictory obligations should result.
(2.) But further, — still granting to Dr. Brownson his premiss for argu-
ment's sake, — I go further : I think that we should be bound to disobey a
wicked creator, not only when he should command things intrinsecally evil,
but when he should command things intrinsecally indifferent. It is most
difficult of course to pursue an argument, based on an hypothesis which is
admitted on both sides to be intrinsecally impossible. It is Dr. Brownson
however, who has made the hypothesis ; and I am but following him over
the ground which he has chosen. And so much as this seems very safe.
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 87
perhaps, that the revelation might be attested by
miracles; but I rejoin at once, that no amount of
miracles, by themselves, can tend to make an alleged
revelation even remotely probable. Most certainly
not ; and all Catholic theologians are here in accord-
ance. On what principle do we accept of miracles, as
evidencing the Christian religion ? On this principle,
Every command, issued by a wicked creator, would be issued for the purpose
of promoting his detestable schemes. Now it is intrinsecally sinful in any
rational creature, to put forth any direct co-operation with such schemes :
and it would therefore be intrinsecally sinful, to obey commands, the most
indifferent, issuing from so foul a source.
I have hitherto assumed Dr. Brownson's premiss : viz. that Reason
declares the intrinsic obligation of obeying a creator, however wicked.
And I have argued, that even if we granted this premiss, Dr. Brownson's
conclusion would not follow. In the impossible case of a wicked creator,
it would not follow from that premiss, that we should be simply bound to
obey him ; but that, whether he commanded things intrinsecally evil or
indifferent, we should be under two contradictory and inconsistent obliga-
tions. We should be morally bound to obey, and morally bound to
disobey.
(3.) But I cannot think that Dr. Brownson, on mature reflection, will
adhere to his premiss. Imagine the case supposed by him, that we had
been created by the Devil. Imagine that we had been called into existence,
for diabolical purposes and by diabolical agency ; and that we were pursued
by our Creator's hatred, from birth to death, as the Devil does hate all
other rational creatures. Surely no one, who takes pains in realising this
supposition, will seriously maintain, that any obligation would exist of
obeying this hated, hateful, hating, author of our existence. There would
be the distinct obligation (as we have seen) of disobeying and abhorring him ;
but surely there would be no obligation, no semblance of obligation, on
the other side, grounded on the fact of his having created us.
In one respect however it does appear to me, that (on this fearful
hypothesis) we should be under two contradictory obligations. We shall
see in the third Chapter, that I am under the intrinsic obligation of
promoting my own permanent happiness ; and this happiness would be
destroyed, by such torments as this demon might inflict in revenge for my
disobedience. On this ground, therefore, I should be under the obligation
of avoiding his wrath ; while on other grounds I should be under the con-
tradictory obligation of incurring it. Yet even on this head something more
has to be said. How do I know that such torments will be inflicted on me for
disobedience 1 Because the demon threatens them ? What reason have I
for believing the threats of this arch-liar 1 Once suppose Dr. Brownson's
hypothesis of the Devil having created us, — and what is more probable than
such a further supposition as the following 1 What is more probable, than
that such a being would first incite his ' creatures ' to every kind of wicked-
ness, through the promise of reward; — and then, when he had perhaps
almost debased them to his own level, should deride their expectations and
inflict on them his heaviest vengeance 1 Is not his course of action now
precisely similar to this 1 He seduces his miserable victims, by representing
the pleasures of sin in the most attractive light ; and rejoices in adding to
their torments, when they become his fellow-prisoners in Hell.
88 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
that we previously recognise our Creator as essentially
Veracious. Suppose per impossibile that a being, not
essentially veracious, had created us, it is obvious at
once that he might have multiplied miracles to an
indefinite extent, for the express purpose of deluding
us. It is absolutely necessary therefore, that we shall
establish God's Veracity on grounds of Reason, before
there is so much as an opening for the entrance of
Revelation. And (as was just now observed) noway
has ever been so much as suggested, for proving that
God is Veracious, which does not assume as a premiss
that Veracity is of independent obligation. If then you
admit that Veracity is of independent obligation, — is
obligatory apart from God's Commands, — you totally
give up your principle, that those Commands are the
source of all moral obligation. But if you do not admit
that Veracity is of independent obligation, you have no
means of establishing by Reason that God is Veracious ;
nor any reasonable ground therefore whatever, for be-
lieving either His Sanctity or any other doctrine, on
the authority of His Revelation.
This then is my fourth argument. If you hold that
God's Commands are the foundation of morality, you
have no reasonable ground whatever for believing that
God does in fact command Justice, Veracity, and the
rest : neither the ground of pure Reason, nor the ground
of Revelation.
(5.) Our fifth reason again, for the thesis which we
are defending, is perfectly distinct in character from
the other four : being based on the admitted Catholic
doctrine * de Deo ; ' a doctrine which Reason, no less
than Revelation, conclusively establishes.
In Catholic Theology we ascribe to God every pos-
sible Perfection, excepting only those which are intrin-
secally incompatible with some higher Perfection. Thus
it would be a very great perfection, if God possessed
the attribute of clearly and infallibly seeing every future
thing as future ; yet we never ascribe to Him that per-
fection, but on the contrary deny that He possesses it.
Why is this? Of course, because it is intrinsecally
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 89
incompatible with a still higher Perfection ; viz. the
existing extra tempus altogether, and viewing alike, as
iin mutably present, what we regard as past, present,
and future.
Let us proceed to apply this undoubted doctrine.
We all agree in this, that we deny to God the intrinsic
power of acting in violation of Justice, Veracity, and
Benevolence. In denying Him the power of acting in
every possible direction, we plainly deny to Him a cer-
tain perfection. Such denial then, as we have seen,
can only be defended, by maintaining that the particular
perfection which we deny Him, is intrinsecally incom-
patible with some still higher Perfection. This pro-
position, according to our thesis, is manifest enough.
Since the violation of Justice Veracity and Benevolence
is independently sinful, it is an indispensable part of
God's Perfections, — it goes in fact to constitute that very
Perfection which we call Sanctity, — that He is neces-
sitated by His nature to abstain from any such viola-
tion. But our opponents maintain, that there is nothing
independently evil, in the violation of Justice, Veracity,
or Benevolence; that such violation is only evil at all,
because God has forbidden it. On this theory then,
God's inability to act inconsistently with these three
qualities can only be a direct imperfection. A con-
clusion, I need hardly say, absolutely fatal to that
premiss, of which it is the legitimate result.
(6.) My sixth argument shall be an appeal to your
own present convictions. God imposed on the Church,
before Christ, the obligation of circumcision and other
rites ; but when the Holy Spirit came, He removed
that obligation. I would beg you to imagine what
your feelings would be, if you were told that God did
not possess the physical power, either on the one hand
of commanding circumcision, or on the other hand of
removing that command. The Supreme Lord of the
Universe is at once degraded to a low and subordinate
place in His own creation. Why on the other hand
does no feeling of the kind arise in your minds, when
you are told that He has not the physical power of
90 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
revealing false doctrine, or of commanding pride and
vindictiveness ? Evidently and undeniably, because
you do possess the inextinguishable intuition (however
energetically men may labour by sophisms to blind
you to its existence) that there is an intrinsic difference
of character between the two Commands. Because
you intue that the practising or not practising circum-
cision, is a thing intrinsecally indifferent : but that
the cultivating pride or vindictiveness is a thing
intrinsecally detestable ; — intrinsecally incapable of
being commanded or permitted by a Holy Creator.
Your own present convictions, then, attest the truth
of that principle for which I am contending. Your own
conviction plainly is, not that these sins are detestable
because God prohibits them, but the very contrary;
that God prohibits them because they are intrinsecally
detestable. If, then, they are intrinsecally detestable
apart from God's Command, then, apart from such
Command, you are still under the moral obligation of
avoiding them.
Of these six arguments, all, except the fifth, apply
a fortiori against the monstrous theory, that morality is
based on God's free Command,
38. We proceed now to consider the third adverse
theory.* This is frequently expressed by saying, that
morality is founded on our Creator's Nature ; not on
His Command or Prohibition undoubtedly, but on His
Nature. Now these words are in themselves somewhat
vague. Those who adopt them may possibly hold no
other doctrine, than that which we have been advo-
cating ; viz. that Moral Truth, as being necessary, is
identical with God. But many philosophers, in using
the above phrase, do undoubtedly mean to express a
doctrine altogether different from ours. They mean
to say, that the foundation of morality is, not indeed
the Creator's necessary Command, but His necessary
Approval or Detestation. They mean this. c The only
* Those readers who are already convinced, that the idea ' morally good'
in no sense includes the idea of 'God,' may omit with advantage nn. 38, 39,
and 40.
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 91
*' sense in which an act can with truth be called ' morally
4 ' evil' is, that it is 'necessarily detested by the Creator;'
* the only sense in which it can with truth be called
' 'morally good7 is, that it is 'necessarily approved by
* 'the Creator ;7 the only sense in which it can with
4 truth be called ' morally preferable7 to another, is,
' that it is * necessarily preferred by the Creator to
' that other.7 '
Now the very same six arguments, which we
adduced against the second adverse theory, are equally
applicable (mutatis mutandis) against this. As they
must be quite fresh in your mind, I will draw them
out far more briefly in their new application.
(1.) All men, on occasion, are ready to elicit the
judgment, that the retention of a deposit is 'morally
evil.7 In eliciting this judgment, do they mean by the
term ' morally evil 7 to express ' detested by the Crea-
tor ?7 On such a supposition, the proposition ' to do
what the Creator detests is morally evil,7 is a true sub-
jective analytical proposition ; and its contradictory
therefore, is simply unmeaning. Will any one main-
tain that this is so ? that the proposition, — ' to do what
our Creator detests is not morally evil' — is unmeaning?
Or will not every one rather say, that it is false, mon-
strous, and the like? We understand its meaning most
readily ; and its contradictory therefore is not a true
subjective analytical proposition.
I would proceed thus to address my present op-
ponents. You are obliged then to admit, (1), that all
men will elicit this judgment 'the retention of a deposit
is morally evil;' and, (2), that in that judgment, they
mean by ' morally evil 7 something quite distinct from
' detested by the Creator.' Your theory, however,
compels you to maintain, that the judgment, thus uni-
versally elicited, is false and pernicious. Such a state-
ment must consistently land you in the most absolute
scepticism.
(2.) Take the all-important proposition, ' The Crea-
tor is All-holy.7 On the theory of these opponents, this
proposition is literally emptied of all meaning. For on
92 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
their theory, ' morally good/ means simply ' approved
by the Creator/ Hence, on their theory, the above
proposition expresses neither more nor less than this,
—'that the Creator possesses in the greatest degree the
' quality, of always doing what He Himself approves/
But this is a quality, which would equally appertain to
any demon, who should be so obdurate in wickedness,
as to regard evil as good and good as evil. Hence on
our opponents' theory, our Creator is not Holy in any
other sense, except that in which an obdurate demon is
holy.
(3.) Consider that very proposition, which our op-
ponents justly regard as so true and so important; 'to
do what the Creator detests is morally evil :' they ac-
tually debar themselves from all power of establishing
this proposition. For consider. Certainly this pro-
position is no intuem. Imagine the case of a creating
demon : certainly our opponents will not maintain, that
we intue a moral obligation of avoiding what such
demon detests ; of avoiding with the greatest care all
approach to Justice, Purity, or Benevolence. The
proposition which we do hold as self-evident is, — 'to
do what the Holy Creator detests is morally evil.'
Now Reason establishes, that He, Who Alone can create,
is essentially Holy ; and thus we are led to the con-
clusion, that 'to do what the Creator detests is in all
cases morally evil.' But our opponents cannot appeal
to any such self-evident judgment as the above ; for on
their view, the creating demon, if he were but utterly
blind and obdurate, would be as holy as the Adorable
God.
(4.) I have no means of knowing that the Creator
does detest injustice, impurity, malevolence, unless I
first know that these qualities are evil apart from His
detestation.
(5.) The Creator is necessitated to detest these
qualities ; but this would be a great imperfection, unless
they were independently evil.
(6.) I appeal to your own present convictions. Sup-
pose you heard it said, that the Creator is necessitated
THE EELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 93
to detest intellectual slowness or bodily awkwardness :
you would be utterly shocked at such a statement.
Yet on the other hand you believe of course, as we
also believe, that He is necessitated to detest male-
volence and impurity. Why does the former state-
ment shock you, while the latter is implied in your very
idea of God ? Plainly, because you do recognise an
intrinsic difference between these two classes of defects ;
because you recognise, that malevolence and impurity
are intrinsecally worthy of God's detestation, while
intellectual or bodily incapacity is not. You are con-
vinced, in other words, that malevolence and impurity
are not morally evil because God detests them, but the
very reverse : that God necessarily detests them, because
they are morally evil.
39. The fourth adverse theory agrees with the third,
except that instead of1 The Creator' it would substitute
' The One Necessary Being.' According to this theory,
the only sense in which it can with truth be said that
an act is morally evil, is that such act is detested by
the One Necessary Being ; and similarly as to other
shapes of the idea 4 morally good.'
As the fourth theory agrees with the third except
as to this one substitution, so also will the arguments
adducible against it. You will find that the arguments,
adduced against the third theory, are applicable word
for word against the fourth, if you will simply make in
them this one substitution.
40. The fifth adverse theory is the following, c The
1 true sense of * morally good ' is ' that which unites us
c to the Creator our true End ; ' the true sense of c morally
'evil' is 'that which separates us from Him.' ' Since
however this phrase is somewhat vague, I will state
more definitely what I believe to be intended by it.
The advocates of this theory, I believe, intend to say,
that by ' morally good' is meant c that which brings my
* will into harmony and agreement with the Creator's ; '
* and by 'morally evil ' that which places it in opposition
to His.' If however, our opponents will mention any
distinct sense, different from this, as intended by the
94 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
phrase, our arguments may with perfect facility be
adapted as against this other sense also.
The first five of our six former arguments are
equally available here, as the following recapitulation
will shew : though it may be perhaps doubted whether
the sixth can be so easily brought to bear.
(1.) Consider this proposition, — cto place my will
in opposition to the Creator's is not morally evil/ No
one will call this an unmeaning proposition ; and
consequently the first argument, as drawn out against
the second and third theories, is equally efficacious
here.
(2.) According to this fifth theory, the word choly,7
signifies c having a will in agreement with the Creator's/
When I say therefore, ' the Creator is All-holy,' I mean
no more than that His Will is in agreement with itself.
But this might be said of an obdurate and consistently
wicked demon, as truly as of our Adorable Creator.
Hence, according to this fifth theory, God is not Holy
in any other sense, than that in which a consistently
wicked demon is holy.
(3.) Our opponents debar themselves from the
power of establishing that very proposition, which they
regard as so vitally important : viz. that 4 to place our
will in opposition to the Creator's is morally evil.' It
is certainly no self-evident truth, unless we add the
qualification, ' Holy Creator.' It is no self-evident truth
(even if it were a truth at all.) that it is ' morally evil to
place our will in opposition to that of a creating demon/
But our opponents are unable to add this qualification
* holy ; ' for if they would reason consistently, they must
regard the word ' holy ' as expressing no quality, except
one which a creating demon, if absolutely obdurate,
would possess as fully as God Himself.
(4.) If our opponents' theory were true, we should
have no means whatever of knowing that we do bring
our wiU into harmony with the Creator's, by practising
Justice, Veracity, Benevolence. Before I know this,
I must know that God is Just, Veracious, Benevolent :
but this again I cannot know, except through knowing
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 95
that Sanctity is a Perfection, and that Sanctity includes
these qualities.
But so soon as I know that Sanctity includes the
qualities of Justice, Veracity, Benevolence, I know by
the very force of terms that injustice, mendacity, and
cruelty are morally evil. I must know therefore that
these are morally evil, before I can possibly know, that
by practising them I place my will in opposition to my
Creator's.
(5.) The Creator, as my opponents are even forward
in maintaining, is, by the necessity of His Nature, Just,
Veracious, Benevolent. But His inability to act in
opposition to these ends, would be a great imperfection,
unless it were true that such action would be in itself
morally evil, independently of His Will's determination.
But if so, such action would be morally evil in us, quite
independently of the determination of the Creator's
Will. But our opponents maintain that things are
morally evil to us, not independently of the determina-
tion of the Creator's Will, but on the contrary ; in most
simple and absolute dependence on such determination.
Consequently, if our opponents' theory were true, it
would follow that God's inability to act unjustly, men-
daciously, malevolently, is a great imperfection.
On consideration, it will be found, (I think) ex-
tremely difficult to distinguish the whole doctrine which
we have just been considering, from the third adverse
theory ; the theory, viz. that ' morally evil ' signifies
4 that from which God's Will is necessarily averse/
41. It is probable enough that certain other theories
may be alleged, — closely resembling indeed one or
other of those which we have considered, — but differing
in this or that subordinate detail. But the same five
arguments will be found equally cogent against each
and all.
All these various theories, whatever their mutual
difference^, in one respect agree with each other, while
opposed to those principles which we have ourselves
advocated. They all represent my idea of c moral good-
ness/ as in this or that way dependent on my idea of
96 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
* God ;' whereas we have most earnestly maintained, that
my idea of * God ' depends most essentially on my idea of
* moral goodness.' One very observable consequence
therefore, follows at once from our opponents' doctrine :
nay it follows so immediately, so irresistibly, that it
can hardly be called a consequence at all, but is rather
the very same doctrine differently stated. It is implied
then in their position, that we may rightly and suitably
give the appellation ' God,' to a being, whom we do not
yet conceive as possessing moral goodness or sanctity.
According to their doctrine, I say, — if we conceive of a
being infinite in power and knowledge, — we may appro-
priately call that being God, before we so much as con-
sider the question of his moral goodness; before we so
much as consider the question, whether on the one hand
he love and command Justice, Veracity, and Mercy, or
on the other hand love and command oppression, blood-
thirstiness, lying and impurity. From such a statement
every Theist will at once recoil ; and our opponents, I
am well aware, will be foremost in disclaiming any such
notion : yet surely their doctrine either means this, or
means nothing at all.
On this question of words then, I have pursued the
course which every good Catholic will approve. I have
abstained from using the term ' God ' to express any
idea, except one which shall prominently include the
Attribute of Sanctity. But now I go a step further. I
maintain that men have no possible grounds for be-
lieving the Infinite Creator to be Holy, so long as they
consider the idea of moral goodness to be dependent on
the idea of God. In giving reasons however for this
statement, I must not be considered as adducing any
argument distinct from those already stated ; but rather
as expressing in another shape, what has been already
implied in the reasoning above drawn out. The doctrine
which we are advocating is of such vital importance,
that it is important, in every attainable way, to bring
home to your reason and imagination its absolutely
certain and irrefragable character.
Let us ask then in the first place, what is our ground
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 97
for regarding the Creator as Infinite e.g. in Knowledge.
Now there are various philosophical processes, adopted
by various schools of Philosophy, for the purpose of
establishing God's Existence. Choose then that philo-
sophical process, which you may regard as the most
undeniably cogent for this purpose ; and call it process
P. What is the conclusion in which this process lands
you ? This, that the Creator is Infinite in all Per-
fections. But then how do you infer from this, that
He is Infinite in Knowledge ? In this way ; and no
other way is even imaginable. You know aliunde, by
some process altogether different from P, that Know-
ledge is a Perfection. So soon therefore as you have
established that the Creator is Infinite in every Per-
fection, you necessarily infer that Infinite Knowledge is
included in that statement. Thus, and thus only, you
are able to establish, that He is Infinite in Power ; that
He is Immense ; and so with various other Attributes.
It must be then in a way precisely similar, that we
arrive at a conviction of His Infinite Sanctity: or if
this be denied, let some other imaginable way be alleged.
Process P will only establish, that He is Infinite in all
Perfections : it will not tell you, that Justice, Bene-
volence, Veracity, are Perfections. Let me then again
and again entreat my opponents to consider, how they
can arrive at the conviction that these qualities are Per-
fections. What other mode is possible, except that
which we have advocated ?
On the other hand, according to our principles the
whole truth hangs together without flaw or confusion.
(1) Reason declares the intrinsic excellence of Moral
Goodness ; that term being used to express a perfectly
simple idea, which all mankind form on various oc-
casions, with greater or less distinctness. (2) Reason
also declares, (see Sec. 6), that Justice, Veracity,
Benevolence, are qualities, of which that term ' Moral
' Goodness ' is truly predicable. From this follows the
immediate inference, that Justice, Veracity, Benevolence,
are Perfections. Since then, by process P, we are made
aware that the Creator is Infinite in all Perfections, we
H
98 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
infer that He has these Perfections in an infinite degree,
as well as the rest-
But let all this once be admitted, and the conclusion
is manifest. Consider the result of any such admission.
Quite independently, then, of our arriving at a convic-
tion of God's Existence, we know that Moral Goodness
is excellent ; and we know also that Justice, Veracity,
Benevolence are qualities, whereof that term is truly
predicable. Independently then of our arriving at a
conviction of God's Existence, we know that certain acts
of injustice, mendacity, cruelty, are morally evil ; or
(in other words) that we are under the moral obligation
of avoiding them. We arrive therefore at the know-
ledge of moral obligation, by a road which is altogether
independent of our arriving at a conviction of God's
Existence. And this is the precise question at issue.*
42. An inquiry has been made, which this will be
a convenient place for answering. c Can we say,' it has
been asked, ; that Veracity, e.g. and Benevolence are
Perfections, because God is what He is ?'
(1.) I reply in the first place somewhat indirectly,
by asking a counter-question : — Can we say that Power
and Knowledge are Perfections, because God is what
He is ? Whatever answer may truly be given to the
latter question, may with equal truth be given to the
* My readers may remember two notes in the preceding Section (to n. 24,
p. 55), which contained certain extracts from the 'Prselectiones Pbilosophicse.'
These extracts may lead to the enquiry, what is the analysis of ' moral
goodness,' which the ' Prsclectiones ' advocate ; and how is their doctrine to
be refuted.
Their statement is this : — ' Hinc sequitur, bonitatem actus voluntatis in
1 eo consistere, quod in suo judicio appretiationis, et in suo amore qui illud
' subsequitur, ro plus entis TM minus entis anteponat : (a preferer Ic plus etre
1 au moins etre)' (n. 1526).
I profess myself unable to refute this statement, because unable to
understand it. Take our old instance : ' the detention of a deposit is
' wrong.' Our author regards this statement as comparatively obscure. He
thinks that a ' clearer ' (see note at p. 55) method of apprehending the same
truth will be to say, that by retaining a deposit we prefer the' moins etre '
to the ' plus etre.' Few persons, I think, will follow the author, in regarding
the latter as the clearer statement of the two. But this, I admit, is not the
precise question : the question is (1), can 'morally evil' be regarded as a
complex idea ? and (2) is its true analysis, ' the not preferring le plus etre
au moins etre 1 '
Now, the only meaning which I can imagine of this statement, is one
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 99
former. This, in fact, is the only doctrine on the
subject for which I am very anxious ; viz. that we have
as direct means for knowing Justice and Benevolence
to be Perfections, as we have for knowing Knowledge
and Power to be such.
(2.) I incline to think, however, that we do not
know enough of God here in via, to answer the question
either way. The very opposite allegation might surely
be made with quite equal plausibility. It might be
said that God is what He is, because Power, Knowledge,
Veracity, Benevolence, are Perfections ; in other words,
that He is Omnipotent, Omniscient, Infinitely Veracious,
Infinitely Benevolent, because He would be imperfect
were He otherwise.
(3.) And I incline to think that the formula, above
supposed, is at all events an undesirable form of speech
in the case of Moral Perfections. I think it is undesirable
to say, that ' Veracity and Benevolence are Perfections
4 because God is what He is ;' inasmuch as such a form
of speech tends to obscure a doctrine, which it is
extremely important on the other hand to place in the
clearest and most brilliant light. I refer, of course, to
the doctrine, that we know Veracity and Benevolence
to be Perfections, as directly and as fully as we know
Knowledge and Power to be such.
which it is impossible that the author can have intended. In refusing
restitution of a deposit, I undoubtedly prefer what is pleasurable to what
is morally good : and this the author might conceivably have meant, by his
* plus 6tre * and ' moins e~tre.' But so able an author could not really have
meant this. He alleges that 'morally good1 or ' evil' is a complex idea : and
professes to resolve that complex idea into its simpler elements. And yet,
on this view of his meaning, among those simpler elements, he places the
original idea itself in all its complexity. * By ' morally good,' * he says, ' is
* meant the preferring what is morally good to what is pleasurable.' ' You
1 profess to explain the phrase,' a student will reply, ' and yet you use the
* phrase itself in the course of your explanation.'
Another similar statement has sometimes been made ; viz. that * moral
goodness,' signifies * the preferring what is preferable.' But we may ask,
in what sense preferable ? Pleasurably preferable, e. g. 1 l Of course not ;
' but morally preferable !' Your doctrine then is this :' ' Moral goodness is
' the preferring what is morally preferable ;' or in other words, ' moral good-
* ness is the acting according to the principles of moral goodness.'
If I were able to discover any intelligible sense, as appertaining to either
of the above formulae, I am quite certain that I could most readily refute
such formula, according to the principles already laid down.
100 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
43. Our whole case will be made even stronger, (if
that were possible,) by considering the principal
objections which have been made to our conclusion.
The first of these I will state, almost in the very words
of an able thinker, who urged it on me in conversation.
' You exalt,' he said, ' an abstract quality, which you
4 call Sanctity, above the Living God. Of course you
' are far from intending this ; but to this your principle
4 comes in fact. The Living God, according to you,
4 has no claims on our obedience, till He shews that
4 His Commands are in accordance with this abstract
4 quality.'
I reply, that I am not exalting any abstract quality
at all : but vindicating the claim of God's Attribute
c Sanctity,' to an equal consideration with His other
Attributes. In the case of any other Attribute except
Sanctity, I am sure that my opponents would see how
unfounded is their allegation. Take e.g. the Attribute of
Omniscience. I am sure they would fully concur in
such language as the following. ' Suppose the case
4 (impossible indeed, yet not unimaginable,) that our
' creator were a being, infinite indeed in sanctity and
4 in power, but yet limited in knowledge, and capable
c of error. Such a being would not be that God Whom
1 we adore ; and our duties to him would in many
4 respects differ, from our existing duties towards God.
' The duty of faith e.g. essentially depends on the circum-
' stance, that God is ^capable of error; and it could not
' be exercised towards such a being as we have imagined/
Who would think of objecting to such a statement as
this ? Who would say that such language exalts the
abstract quality < knowledge* above the Living God ?
Yet such an objection might quite as plausibly be
adduced, in this case as in the other.
Such is the direct answer to this objection ; and it
is here given as such. Should any of you therefore
feel doubtful, as to thai further statement which I am
now about to make, I will beg you to remember that
such statement is in no way essential to my argument.
But surely the devout Theist will feel, that the Attribute
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 101
Sanctity is far more prominent, far more characteristic
(if I may be allowed the term), of Almighty God, than
any other. Let us, on the one hand, imagine a being,
who shall be infinite indeed in sanctity, knowledge, and
the rest ; but limited in power, and capable of failing
in what he attempts : or again, infinite in sanctity and
in power, but limited in knowledge and capable of
error. Then let me, on the other hand, imagine a
being, who shall be infinite indeed in power and know-
ledge, but limited in sanctity, and capable of sin ; who
shall be capable of injustice and mendacity. Surely
this last idea is quite immeasurably more removed
from our idea of God, than is either of the other two.
In either of the former cases we imagine a being, who
falls short of the Living God ; but in the latter case we
imagine a being, who may act in opposition to His cause.
44. This brings us to the second objection ; an
objection which has really been made by good Catholics,
though those who adduce it must have given very little
attention to its full import. It is this. ' Of course we
4 feel very certain that mendacity e.g. and cruelty are
4 wicked ; because we have been created by a Being
4 who abhors them, and who has consequently given us
4 faculties which compel us so to regard them. But a
* creator, who should love mendacity and cruelty, might
' Avith equal readiness give us faculties, which would
4 compel us to regard them as morally good.'
The first answer to this is very obvious. The
objector supposes that we have no reasonable ground
for absolutely trusting our faculties ; no reasonable
ground for certainly knowing, that their testimony
corresponds to Objective Truth. In the first Section
I have pointed out, in so great detail, the absolute and
desolating scepticism in which we must be landed by
any such supposition, that not a word more need here
be added on the matter.
But a second, and even more cogent answer, may
be made to the objection. There are various thinkers
who hold what I have called semi-sceptical opinions
(see n. 4, p. 1 1 ) ; who consider that our belief in the trust-
102 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
worthiness of our faculties depends on our knowledge
of God's Veracity. Yet even these persons hold, that
we have full means of knowing that God is Veracious.
They may be inconsecutive and unphilosophical, —
indeed I am sure they are, — in so thinking ; yet they
do hold this.
But the objector, whom we are now considering,
actually denies this : he says that we have no means of
knowing God to be Veracious. His very statement
contains this. ' It is not certain e.g.1 he says, ' that vin-
'dictiveness or impurity is sinful; it is only certain
'that we have been created by a being, who for his
' own purposes makes us think so.' If it is not certain
that those qualities are sinful which our faculties declare
to be so, —it is not certain that our faculties are not
deceptive. If it is not certain that our faculties are
not deceptive, it is not certain that God is Veracious.
It is truly amazing, how constantly this sceptical
philosophy is intruding in its various shapes : how con-
stantly it is reappearing under new forms and features,
when we flatter ourselves that it is finally put down.
45. There is a third objection, which perhaps ap-
proaches much more nearly than any which has pre-
ceded, to expressing the real ground, on which many
devout Catholics find a difficulty in our statement. It
deserves therefore, and shall receive, our most careful
and anxious consideration.
'Surely,' says the objector, 'your principles are
c adverse to the alphabet of the spiritual life. In pro-
4 portion as men advance in sanctity, in that very pro-
' portion do they more and more recognise the direct
4 agency of God, in every moral obligation which they
4 encounter. They consider the Law itself to come as
6 fully from God, as does the Grace which enables them
* to observe the Law. Wherever there appears a moral
4 preferableness of one act over another, they have
' learned to recognise simply the Voice of God, coun-
4 selling the one and dissuading the other. God's Com-
4 mands and Counsels are regarded by them simply as
4 parts of that sweet Providence, whereby God deals
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 103
4 with them individually one by one. And what all men
1 feel in proportion as they grow in sanctity, — that we
4 find (as might have been expected) most fully testi-
4 fied by the Saints of God. And Holy Scripture speaks
4 throughout in the same tone. " Justificationes Tuas
1 custodiam ; non me derelinquas usquequaque.'' He,
4 who is supplicated never to desert me, is the very
4 Being who imposes on me the Law : I resolve to keep
* it, because it is His Law, and because His Grace will
4 enable me to do so. Whereas you on the contrary
4 would disavow that sweet individual Providence of
* God, which imposes burdens on each, in proportion as
4 each is capable of bearing them. This you would
4 disavow ; and you would enthrone as lawgiver in its
4 place, a kind of blind pitiless destiny, enforcing on all
4 indiscriminately its relentless claims/
God forbid that we should treat this most serious
objection in any li^ht or summary way. God forbid
that we should put it on one side, without giving it our
most careful consideration. Indeed our cause is best
advanced, by considering it with the greatest care ; for
it is one of those objections, which appear formidable
indeed when first stated, but which altogether lose
their force, when closely approached and minutely
surveyed.
(1.) The first answer, however, which I will make,
is but of an indirect and negative character. I would
beg you to consider then, how very far the objection
would go, if it could be admitted to have any real
efficacy. Take the theory most opposed to that which
we have advocated, — the theory, viz. that all moral
obligation is founded on God's Command. All Catholics,
who hold this theory, unhesitatingly add, that this
Command is necessary and not free. Now the present
objector urges, that if there were an obligation, which
exists independently of God's Will, it would be impossi-
ble to regard this obligation, as being part of His sweet,
free, individual Providence ; of that Providence, which
imposes burdens in proportion as each man is capable of
bearing them. But plainly, whatever be the weight of
104 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
this objection, it applies with fully equal force, against
those Commands of God which He is necessitated to im-
pose, and which are irrespective of His free Appointment.
Indeed it might be plausibly urged, that the idea of a
' blind, pitiless, relentless, destiny ' is even more power-
fully suggested, by this latter theory than by our own.
It might be said that this latter theory suggests the idea
of a destiny, which does not indeed directly oblige the
creature, but which has even greater power ; which
necessitates the Will of the very Almighty Creator.
c The other theory,' it might be said, c represents this
c destiny as God's rival; but this represents it as His
i superior.1
Plainly then, the objection which we have stated,
cannot be urged in behalf of any adverse Catholic
theory, as against ours. If it were efficacious at all, it
would be efficacious against a doctrine, on which all
Catholics are unanimous ; the doctrine, viz. that morality
is necessary and unchangeable, and independent of
God's free Appointment.
(2.) Now I say, secondly and more directly, that the
objection is not efficacious at all against this doctrine.
Let it be observed then, that the necessity of Moral
Truth, as of Mathematical, is a hypothetical necessity.
It is in no respect necessary that God shall create a
triangle ; it is only necessary that, if he create one, its
three angles together equal two right angles. In like
manner it is in no respect necessary, that He shall create
beings possessed of freedom and intelligence ; it is only
necessary, that, If He do create such beings, they are
subject to this or that moral obligation. And this
holds, not only as to obligation in general, but also as
to the various particulars of which it consists. That
there are creatures capable of impurity, flows from
God's most free Appointment : all which is necessary
is, that if there he such creatures, in them impurity is
sinful. That there are beings capable of pain, is part
of God's free Providence ; the necessary truth is, that,
if such creatures endure pain, they act sinfully by
murmuring against their Creator's Decrees. And so of
TIIK RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 105
every possible combination of circumstances, under which
this or that duty may be incumbent.
It may be said then, without the slightest repug-
nancy to the principles which we have established, that
God is the free Author of every single moral obligation,
to which any one of His creatures is subject. We shall
see this readily in an analogous case. No Theist will
deny, that the elliptical revolution of the planets is due
wholly to God's free Appointment. ' How can this
'be?' an objector may nevertheless ask. ' Such ellip-
tical revolution follows by necessary consequence
from these two data : first, from that property of gravi-
tation, which appertains to all matter ; secondly, from
a certain original projection in space, which the planets
received. It is true indeed that the property of gra-
vitation,— it is true that the original projection, — are
due to God's free Appointment : but these once supposed,
the rest follows by necessary consequence.' True, we
reply: but then, since (1), the elliptical revolution is a
necessary consequence of physical laws, which God has
freely established; — and since (2), in establishing them
He distinctly saw and intended that consequence ; —
what is our conclusion? We unhesitatingly ascribe to
His free Appointment that consequence itself. And
this answer is felt by all Theists to be abundantly
sufficient.
See then, how universally recognised is our prin-
ciple. If there be a certain consequence, which neces-
sarily results from this or that free Appointment of
God; — and if God, in that Appointment, distinctly saw
and intended that consequence ; — we at once ascribe that
consequence itself to His free Appointment. But every
moral obligation, which can possibly press upon any
creature, is in this very category ; every such obliga-
tion results necessarily, from this or that free Appoint-
ment of God ; every such obligation was distinctly seen
and intended by God in that Appointment. Hence He
is the free Author of every possible moral obligation.
-It is of very great importance, that this should be
grasped as a practical truth, and not merely recognised
106 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
as a theoretical speculation. You will not therefore, I
hope, think me tedious, if I labour, by one or two
instances, to shew its intimately practical character.
I am beset by some violent temptation, and ear-
nestly pray to God for strength and support. It is to
Him then that I look for Grace, that I may fulfil the
obligation of resistance. Now it is quite equally to
Him that I look, as being, by His free appointment, the
Author of that obligation. How is it that the tempta-
tion began ? how is it that it now continues ? Simply
because God, in His free, tender, individual Providence,
ordains and permits it. Let Him but speak one word,
the temptation is brought to an end. It rests simply
with Him, — and so I feel it to the bottom of my soul, —
whether He continue my present obligation, or merci-
fully remove it. How can He remove the obligation ?
by making impurity, e.g. innocent? Is it this which
holy souls mean, when they look to God as Author of
their various obligations ? or is not this rather the
foulest blasphemy ? No, God removes my obligation of
resistance to the temptation in a most different way : He
does so, by removing that temptation itself, which is the
object-matter of the obligation. And so I say to Him,
with St. Augustine, l da quod jubes et jube quod vis :
do Thou but give me grace to fulfil Thy Commandment,
and then command what Thou dost please. Command
me to resist temptation, or remove that Command, as to
Thee may seem best; for either alternative simply
depends on Thy good Providence.
And so with any other of these various obligations,
which are my means of probation, and essential parts
of His Providence in my regard. He commands me to
bear adverse and trying circumstances with cheerful-
ness and contentment: but by one Word proceeding
from His Mouth that Command may be removed ; for
my circumstances may cease to be adverse and trying.
He commands me to love those who inflict on me the
most stinging injuries; but He may withdraw that
Command, by changing the hearts of my enemies and
making all such provocation to cease. In fact, from the
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 107
beginning to the end of my life, it is His free Appoint-
ment, and that alone, which determines what shall be
these various obligations, which are to be the means of
training me to Heaven. He adjusts those obligations,
with most tender and loving regard to my power of
bearing them; and harmonises them with the various
dispensations of His Providence towards me.
46. Having concluded our answer to this most
weighty objection, it will be well to pursue the same
line of* thought a little further. I will put before you
therefore in connection, the various modes, in which
our theory holds up Almighty God as the One Object
of our undivided reverence.
(1.) There are various truths, which have an
absolute and indefeasible claim on the submission of all
creatures who are rational and free, so far as such
creatures are brought within their scope. These truths
are of the following kind : * Veracity is of obligation ; '
4 Benevolence is a virtuous end of action ;' &c. &c. Now
these truths, so far from being rivals in any sense to
God, (God Himself forbid such blasphemy!) are abso-
lutely identified with Him. In vindicating their inde-
feasible authority, we are vindicating the indefeasible
Authority of Almighty God.
(2.) By recognising these truths, we can give a real
meaning (whereas otherwise we could not do so) to the
all-important proposition, ' God is Holy ; ' and it is per-
fectly impossible, except by means of that proposition,
to vindicate His claim on our allegiance and love. (See
n. 37, arg. 3.) In truth He is not only perfectly Holy,
but infinitely; and to this proposition also we are able
to give a most real and intelligible sense, as we shall
find in the Sixth Section. See n. 59, pp. 125, 6.
(3.) We shall see, later in the present Section, that
God is necessitated by His Sanctity to add the sanction
of His Command, over and above the intrinsic obliga-
B tion of those duties to which we are thus intrinsecally
obliged. Wherever then we recognise an intrinsic
obligation, we not only recognise the Nature of God
with which that obligation is identical ; — we also re-
108 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
cognise an Act of His Will, expressly commanding our
obedience. And as in every case of moral obligation
we recognise God's Command, so also in every case of
moral preferableness we recognise His Counsel.
(4.) We have said that these moral truths possess
an indefeasible claim on us, so far as we are within
their sphere. But now it is to be further observed,
that it depends simply on God's free Appointment, how
far we are brought within their sphere. Every moral
obligation which binds me, binds me by God's free
Appointment. Whenever this act is morally preferable
to that, God by His free Appointment has placed me
in those circumstances, which are the foundation of
that preferableness. Every instance then of moral
obligation or preferableness, issues to me directly
from God ; and is part of that tender, loving, watch-
ful, individual Providence, whereby He trains me for
Heaven.*
* My readers will now be able to judge, how far I should agree with the
following passage of Dr. Brownson' s, from which I have already, in a former
note, cited an extract. It is most clearly and powerfully expressed ; specially
as to the identity of God and Moral Truth : and it contains very far more
with which I concur, than the reverse. Yet, in addition to the statement
criticised in my former note, there are one or two others from which I
must dissent.
Thus, I cannot agree in denying that there are two distinct ideas, one of
God, and another ' of good.' It seems clear to me that these ideas are
distinct, and that our idea of God includes that of good.
Again, Dr. Brownson says ' that to ask whether God be good is absurd.'
This no doubt is true ; for by ' God' I mean the Infinitely Perfect Being.
But to ask whether our Creator be good, is not merely (me judice) not
absurd, but is to ask the most real and important question that can be
asked.
On the other hand I do not dissent from Dr. Brownson, when he states
that ' if the Devil were necessary being, he cannot be evil, but must be
f good.' For Dr. Brownson means, as the context shews, not that on such
an hypothesis mendacity e. g. and cruelty would be good ; but that on
such an hypothesis the Devil would be veracious and benevolent.
The following is the passage in extenso ; and I am sure those of my
readers who may not have hitherto seen it, will be much impressed with its
vigour and clearness of expression.
" ' But absolute and necessary ideas, if not God, if not real and necessary
being, are mere abstractions, and therefore nothing ; for the necessary is
not and cannot be creature, since creature is always contingent. If real and
necessary, they must be being ; and therefore God Himself the only being. _
The Xoyaj, the Word, Verbum Dei, is a distinction in God, not/row, God, for
the Word is God. Reason then, when distinguished from our faculty of
intelligence which depends on it, is not something between necessary being
and contingent existence ; but is real and necessary being, or God Himself
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 109
47. There are one or two minor objections to our
doctrine, which have been brought to my knowledge.
But it is unnecessary to speak of them, as you will be
able most easily to refute them, if you have followed at
all carefully the preceding argument. Indeed they
would not by themselves (I think) have cost much diffi-
culty to any one ; though they may reasonably be
adduced as additional arguments, against a proposition
otherwise questionable. I shall now, therefore, con-
sider myself to have sufficiently established the main
proposition for which I have been contending ; and I
shall proceed to deduce from it one or two con-
sequences.
Before proceeding to our next step, it will be
necessary to explain a distinction, always recognised
in theological treatises cde Deo.' There are certain
things, which God cannot do ' de Potentia Absolute! ; '
certain other things, which He can do indeed ' de
as Fenelon maintains : and therefore the idea of good must be the Good
itself.'
" ' The ideal,' interposed Father John, ' is the intelligible, and the intel-
lect of God Himself affirming Himself, and in the act of affirming Himself
creating and illumining our intelligence ; and He is at once the Creator, the
immediate Object, and the Light of our reason. The idea of good, which is
the principle of our moral judgments, is God affirming Himself to us as the
Good itself. God, then, is Himself the Principle, the Eule, Standard, or
Measure of our moral judgment. When we judge that this or that particular
thing is or is not good, He is the term of comparison. We may properly
ask whether this or that conception of God Himself be true or false in
the same way ; but to ask whether God be good or not is absurd : for we
can, in order to answer the question, compare Him only with Himself.'
" ' We have not,' added Diefenbach, ' two distinct ideas, one of God, and
another of good, between which we can institute a comparison, or which we
can judge the one by the other. The two ideas in the real order are one
and the same. God, as Being, is identically God as Good ; for in God there
is no distinction between Essence and Being, and none between Being and
Attribute, or between one Attribute and another.'
" ' Therefore,' said Wiuslow, * nothing is gained by the attempt to found
the Sovereignty of God on his intrinsic Justice, Goodness, Love, dis-
tinguished from his Omnipotence, or creative power. Goodness, Justice,
Love, so distinguished, give the law according to which the sovereign power
must be exercised, if you will, but they do not give dominion itself. If,
per impossibile, some other power had created us, we might still love and
revere God, for what he is in and of Himself; but He would have no right to
command us as a sovereign, for in that case we should not be his creatures
but another's.'
" « If, then, the devil had created us, we should have been bound to obey
the devil,' concluded De Bonneville.
110 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Potentia Absoluta,' but not 4 de Potentia Ordinata.
And now to explain this distinction.
God can do anything ' de Potentia Absoluta,7 which
is not either intrinsecally impossible, or contradictory
to His Attributes. God cannot ' de Potentia Absoluta '
create a triangle, whose angles shall be greater than
two right angles ; or command His creature to cul-
tivate pride and vindictiveness. But short of these
extreme cases, short of cases which involve self-con-
tradiction or contradiction to His Essential Attributes,
4 de Potentia Absoluta ' He can do everything.
Yet there are many things which, though they do
not involve this absolute contradiction, are manifestly
" ' Give the devil his due, is a maxim one often hears repeated/ replied
Father John. ' If the devil were an independent being, and were really our
creator, we should be his, and bound to obey his commands. But the sup-
position is absurd. The devil could create us, only on the supposition that
he is not himself created ; that he is real and necessary being ; and if real
and necessary being, he cannot be evil, but must be good, and hence not
the devil but God. The devil is a creature, the creature of God ; and
therefore, like any other creature, belongs to God in all he is, and in all he
can do. Whatever the power he may have, he has received it from God,
and owes it to him. God owns him, owns his power, and therefore all that
by that power can be brought forth ; as he who owns the parents owns the
offspring : as we believe is asserted by the laws of every civilised State.'
" ( M. De Bonneville,' said Winslow, * is a French royalist, in exile for
his loyalty : and he, I presume, holds that he is bound to obey his legitimate
prince, precisely because it is his prince who commands. The same com-
mand, however just and good, issued by another, would not be a command
for him. How then is it that he fails to perceive, that the obligation to
obey God does not depend on what is commanded, but on the fact that he
who commands it is his sovereign ? It is not precisely because what is
commanded is just and good that God's Commands are obligatory, but
because they are the Commands of Him who has the right to command.'
" l God's Commands bind our consciences because they are just and
good,' said O'Connor.
" ' Rather,' replied Winslow, ' they are just and good because they are
His Commands. I love the law of God, I delight in it, because it is just
and good ; I obey it because it is the Command of my Sovereign.'
" ' The dispute arises,' said Diefenbach, ' from not distinguishing between
the real sovereign and his deputy or representative ; between him who is
sovereign in his own right, and him who is sovereign only by commission.
God is Sovereign in his own right, and we owe him unconditional obedience ;
we can make no inquiry into the intrinsic nature of his Commands before
obeying ; we can only inquire what is commanded, and whether it is really
He who commands. The real sovereign is not and never can be a tyrant ;
for tyrant, by the very force of the word, means a usurper, one who com-
mands without the right to command. Every tyrannical act is an usurpa-
tion of power ; and an unjust command is tyrannical, because no one has
legitimate authority to command injustice. " Human sovereigns, even the
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. Ill
incongruous and unworthy of Him. For instance : He
might have infused into the soul of Christ a less degree
of Habitual Grace, than He infuses into you and me at
Baptism . There is nothing here either self-contradictory,
or contradictory to His Attributes: yet the supposed
act would be so manifestly incongruous and unworthy
of Him, that we might have been quite certain He
would never so have acted. In all such cases, theo-
logians say, that God cannot so act ' de Potentia
Ordinata :' in other words, He cannot congruously so
act.
48.* Let us now proceed with our general subject.
We have seen that there are certain combinations of
most legitimate, are only delegated sovereigns, and possess no sove-
reignty in their own right. Into their orders we may inquire, for they
have no authority beyond their commission, and that commission never
authorises them to command what is intrinsecally unjust. But when we
know the Command is from God, to inquire if it be just or not, is not only
irreverent, but absurd ; for it is simply asking if the Command of God be
the Command of God.'
" ' But that, though it may give us rights in face of the delegate or human
representative of power, gives us none before God,' said O'Connor. ' The
law of justice is universal; and God Himself is no more exempt from it than
the meanest of His creatures. He has no more right to do injustice than I
have ; I have then before Him the right of Justice.'
" ' The law of justice] said Diefenbach, * is universal, not because it is
distinct from God, above Him, or anterior to Him, but because it is Ood
Himself. He is bound by it, only in the sense that He is bound by His own
Being, or the Perfection of His own Nature. He can apply the law to His
creatures, or create existences that shall come under it ; but He cannot alter
it, because He cannot alter or annihilate Himself, or His own real and neces-
sary Being. God is, and is necessarily what He is. He only is ; and what-
ever is distinguishable from Him, is not being, but existence, created by
Him, and having its being in His being; * for in Him we live and move and
have our being.' Abstractions are nullities, and an abstract law is simply
no law at all. The law of justice must be real ; then being ; and if being, God.
Hence St. Augustine identifies it with the Eternal Reason or Will of God.
The nature of things, the contrary of which cannot be done, is not something
distinct from Ood, and subjecting Him, but is precisely His own Etemwl and
Immutable Nature. The nature of things is what it is, because He is what
He is, and cannot make Himself other than He is. To say such or such a
thing is impossible in the nature of things, is simply to say that it is
repugnant to the Nature of God, and what He, from the Perfection of His
Nature, cannot do. God cannot be subject to any law, but that of His own
Being. He cannot be placed under obligation ; we then can have no rights
before Him, and no rights at all except from Him, and under Him : for
rights on the one side are obligations on the other.' " The italics are mine.
* The asterisks are added to distinguish these numbers from nn. 48, 49,
60, 51, already printed in the fifth Section.
112 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
circumstances, under which certain acts are of inde-
pendent obligation on human beings. Let us call the
assemblage of these obligations, by a name not un-
frequently given to it ; let us call it for the present the
Natural Rule of human actions.*
The Natural Rule of human actions, then, according
to our present definition, is that portion of Moral Truth,
which contains the duties iutrinsecally obligatory on
us men, apart from God's Command ; obligatory on us
men, as possessing that nature, and placed in those
circumstances, which God by His free Appointment has
ordained. In the fifth Section we shall give a some-
what larger sense to this phrase, the 'Natural Rule;'
but in the fullest sense which we shall give it, it will
remain but a small portion of that whole fabric which
we have called Moral Truth (see n. 31, p. 69). The
Natural Rule concerns only us men; but Moral Truth
concerns all possible creatures, who could be endowed
by God with freedom and intelligence. See n. 31.
Now in what relation does God, our All- holy
Creator, stand to this Natural Rule ? Two things
follow, from the principles already laid down. First,
He was perfectly free to call into existence creatures,
or not to do so ; to call into existence rational creatures,
or not to do so ; to call into existence us human
creatures, or not to do so. Secondly, since He does
resolve to call human creatures into existence, He is
not free to appoint, that they shall be exempt from the
intrinsic obligatoriness of the Natural Rule. But
now further I ask thirdly ; is He necessitated to add a
further distinct Command of His own, in corroboration
of that Natural Rule? Let us consider for a moment
this somewhat important question.
It is very plain, that 'de Potentia Ordinata' He could
not have acted otherwise. Strange and incongruous
indeed it would have been, that an All-holy Being
should have created free persons, without commanding
* 'Ante omne Dei Irnperium, — Voluntatem, — Judicium, est regula
qucedam harum actionum, quoe sudpte naturd constat.' Vasquez, already
quoted.
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 105*
them to practise virtue and flee from vice. And that
He has in fact so acted, no Theist ever doubted. But
Suarez goes further than this ; and I think that every
Theist, on reflection, will follow him in his further step.
He considers that 'de Potentia Absoluta' God could
not have abstained from imposing this Command ; so
that, from the very fact of knowing that He is a Holy
Being, we know also that He commands us to fulfil
those duties, which are of independent obligation.
Suarez's reasoning is as follows. When I know by
Reason that God is Holy, I know also that what is
independently good pleases Him, and what is inde-
pendently evil displeases ; for otherwise He would not
be Holy. Now a Holy God, by the very fact of
creating us, takes on Himself the office of governing
us; and He who holily governs us, cannot but forbid
us to do those things, which are independently bad,
and therefore intrinsecally displeasing to Himself.*
* " Quidquid contra rationem rectamfit, displicet Deo, et contrarium illi
placet ; quia cum Voluntas Dei sit summti Justa, nonpotest Illi non displicere
quod turpe est, nee non placere honestum, quia Voluntas Dei non potest
esse irrationabilis, ut dixit Ans. lib. i. Cur Deus homo, c. 8. Ergo .Ratio
Naturalis, quse indicat quid sit per se malum vel bonum homini, conse-
quenter indicat, esse secundum Divinam Voluntatem, ut unum fiat et aliud
vitetur.
" Dices : ' ex voluntate complacentice aut displicentioe in Deo, non sequitur,
{ qu6d sit Voluntas obligans per modum Prcecepti: turn quia hac ratione non
'tenemur conformarionmiDivin9eVoluntati,qii8e est persimplicem affectum ;
' imo nee omni Voluntati Beneplaciti seu Efficaci ; sed illi tantum, qua vult
'nos obligare ; ut suppono ex. 1. 2. q. 19. Unde hac ratione, licet opera
' consiliorum placeant Deo, non inde infertur Voluntas prsecipiens ; turn etiani
' quia homini justo vel beato displicet quidquid a me contra rationem fit, et
* tamen nihilominus ilia voluutas non est praeceptiva.' Respondeo primum,
pon esse sermonem de quAcumque voluntate complacentice, sed de ilia, qua
ita placet aliquid ut bonum, ut contrarium vel privative opposituni per
dmissionem dispticeat tanquam malum: opera autem consiliorum non
placent hoc niodo, sed ita placent, ut in oppositis omissionibus non dis-
pliceat aliqua malitia : et ide6 ilia complacentia vocatur simplex voluntas ;
prior autem, qua ita unum placet ut aliud simpliciter displiceat, censetur
magis absoluta. Deinde dico, talem Voluutatem spectandam esse in Deo
'ut in Supremo Gubernatore, et non ut inveniri potest in persona privata
justa, sive beata sive viatrice : Deus enim, habens illam absolutam displi-
centiam aut complacentiam, vult absolute illud opus fieri vel non fieri,
quantum ad munus Justi Gubernatoris spectat ; ergo est talis Voluntas, ut
per illam velit subditos obligare, ut idfaciant vel non faciant. Non enim
potest esse Voluntas Efficax, ut opus absolute fiat vel noii fiat ; alias nun-
quam opus aliter fieret quarn Deus vellet : quod tamen non ita est, ut
constat. Neque id pertinet ad munus Gubernatoris, ad quern spectat ita
B*
106* PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
On a matter where all Catholics will be probably
agreed, it is unnecessary to say more.
Here then we arrive at the idea, implied in that well-
known phrase ' the Natural Law.' It is simply this : the
Command given us by God, and which a Holy Creator
could not but give, to perform those acts which in them-
selves are of independent obligation, and to abstain
from those other acts which in themselves are in-
dependently evil. Or more briefly — it is God's
Command, necessarily imposed upon us, to observe the
Natural Rule.* Now it is a most undoubted intuem,
velle bona, ut permittat mala, et sinat causas secundas liberas sua libertate
uti expedite et sine impedimento. Ergo oportet, ut sit Voluntas obligans :
nam hoc modo providet subditis in hoc genere, quantum ad rectam et
prudentem providentiam spectat. '
" Dico igitur ex Cajet. dicto a 8 Divinam Voluntatem, licet simpliciter
libera sit ad extra, tamen ex suppositions unius acids liberi posse necessitari
ad alium : ut si vult promittere absolute^, necessitatur ad implendum
promissum ; et si vult loqui aut revelare, necessario debet revelare verum.
Et cum eadeni proportione, si vult creare mundum et ilium conservare in.
or dine ad talem finem, non potest non habere Providentiam illius ; et sup-
posita providendi Voluntate, non potest non habere Providentiam perfectam,
et consentaneam Suse Bonitati et Sapientise : ideoque suppositd Voluntate
creandi naturam rationalem cum sufficienti cognitione ad operandum bonum
et malum, et cum sufficienti concursu ex parte Dei ad utrumque, non potuisse
Deum non velle prohibere tali creaturce actus intrinsece malos, vel nolle
prcecipere honestos mcessarios. Quia sicut non potest Deus mentiri, ita
non potest insipienter vel injuste gubernare ; esset autem providentia valde
aliena a Divind Sapientia et Bonitate, non prohibere vel prcecipere suis
subditis quce talia sunt. Sic ergo ad argumentum distinguitur minor :
nam absolute^ posset Deus nihil prsecipere vel prohibere; tamen ex sup-
positione, quod voluit habere subditos rationes utentes, non potuit non esse
Legislator eorum, saltern in his quse ad honestatem naturalem morum
necessaria sunt. Item ratio supra insinuata est satis probabilis : quia non
potest Deus non odisse malum rectse rationi contrarium ; habet autem hoc
odium, non tantum ut privata persona, sed etiam ut Supremus Gubernator :
ergo ratione hujus odii, vult obligare subditos ne illud cominittant." —
SUAREZ, De Legibus, lib. 2, cap. 6, n. 8, 9, and 23.
* I have taken this definition almost literally from Suarez, though he
does not give it as a definition. In explaining what is meant by the Natural
Law, he says, 'Deus habet perfectam Providentiam hominum ; ergo ad Ilium,
ut ad Supremum Gubernatorem naturae, spectat vetare mala et prsecipere
bona : ergo quamvis ratio naturalis indicet quid sit bonum vel malum
rationali naturce ; nihilominus Deus, ut Auctor et Gubernator talis natures,
prcecipit idfacere vel vetare quod ratio dictat esse faciendum vel vetandum? —
De Legibus, lib. 2, c. 6, n. 8.
There is a definition of the Natural Law, often ascribed to St. Thomas,
nearly equivalent to that which I have given. " Participatio legis seternse
in rationali creatura, dictans et prsescribens illud esse agendum quod est
intrinsece bonum, et illud fugiendum quod est intrinsece malum." See e.g.
" Philosophia Lugdunensis." But I cannot find it in St. Thomas.
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 107*
that disobedience to the commands of an Infinitely Holy
Creator is most deeply sinful. Hence an important
consequence follows, in regard at least to all those who
have the means of knowing this Command imposed by
God : this consequence is, that, in violating the Natural
Law, these men incur, not merely that sinfulness which
is independently intrinsic to the act, but another totally
distinct ; viz. disobedience to the Infinite God.* How
far it is possible that there may be men possessed of
reason, who have no sufficient means of knowing God's
sanction of the Natural Rule, is a question of some im-
portance ; and it shall be considered in our theological
course. A condemned proposition on Philosophical Sin,
which we are to treat in the Supplementary Section,
goes so appalling a length, as to maintain that we cannot
gravely offend God, unless we are distinctly thinking of
Him when we commit a sin. It is difficult to imagine,
how any one can have seriously maintained so astounding
a paradox.
49*. It need hardly be said, that the Commands of
a Holy Creator claim unswerving obedience at our
hands, whether the thing commanded be of independent
obligation or not. Hence, when God commanded the
Jews to circumcise their children, it was their bounden
duty so to do ; when He commands us to obey the
laws of the Church, we violate a most solemn duty in
refusing obedience.
Here we see the distinction, between the Divine
Positive Law and the Natural Law. By the latter, God
commands that, which is in itself of independent obliga-
tion ; by the former, He commands that, which carries
with it no obligation whatever except His Command.
And here too we see the distinction, which con-
tinually meets us in Theology, between * prohibita quia
mala,' and, ' mala quia prohibita.' Pride, vindictive-
ness, impurity, are 'prohibita quia mala;' prohibited
by God, because they are independently evil. To
remain separate from the Catholic Church, is c malum
* We shall shew, in our theological course, that this sinfuluess is not
only totally distinct, but also immeasurably greater.
108* PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
quia prohibitum ; ' it is evil, simply because, under the
Gospel, our Holy Creator has forbidden such separation.
Again, to eat flesh on Friday, to do servile work on
Sunday, to omit confession at Easter, are ' mala quia
prohibita ; ' evil because they are forbidden by the
Church, to which God has given the power of enacting
such laws.
50*. There are various truths, of fundamental im-
portance, which have engaged our attention in this and
the preceding Sections. We have been hitherto occu-
pied in stating these truths, according to their logical
order ; I mean according to that order in which we
arrive at their knowledge. It will conduce, however, to
further clearness, if I terminate this Section by endea-
vouring to make you conceive the same truths in their
ontological order ; i.e. according to that order, whether of
nature or time, in which they actually exist. In this
order, of course, we begin, not with the Principle of
Certitude, but with Almighty God. I must first then
lead you to conceive of Him, with sufficient fullness and
explicitness for our present purpose. I must lead you
to conceive of Him, — not indeed in all those various
aspects wrherein we are able to conceive of Him, — but
only in a small number of them ; only so far as
we are led to contemplate Him by those particular
truths, which we have been considering in the present
Chapter.
(1.) We must begin by conceiving of Him, as the
One Self-existent Necessary Being. On this, however,
our present purpose does not require us to enlarge.
(2.) With Him, as the One Necessary Being, all
necessary truths are identified. Such verities as the
following then are simply identical with God. ' The
three angles of any triangle together equal two right
angles ; ' ' Knowledge and Power are Perfections ; ' ' Sanc-
tity is a Perfection ;' c Sanctity includes Justice and
Benevolence ;' &c. &c.
(3.) The will of this Necessary Being is necessarily
directed to that which is morally good ; or (in other
words) He is necessarily Just, Veracious, Loving, and
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. 109*
the rest. This is that Attribute which we call
Sanctity.
These three particulars lead us to conceive truly
of God's Nature. Now in regard to what we conceive
as His External Acts.
(4.) He has thought fit, for the wise purposes of
His Providence and in accordance with His Liberty, to
create various beings, who are rational and free.
(5.) Since He is necessarily Veracious, He has
necessarily given to those beings, not an unsound, but
a sound, reason. So far as His Power was concerned,
He might most easily have created us, so that our rea-
son should testify what is false. He might have so
created us, that we should be invariably fancying
ourselves to remember things which never happened;
or that we should fancy certain laws of reasoning to be
valid, which really lead from true premisses to false
conclusions. But His Veracity renders it impossible
for Him so to act. He has given us faculties, which
are truthful and not mendacious ; He has given us a
reason, which will certainly lead us to truth, if we do
but exercise it according to those rules which itself
prescribes.
(6.) But it would be of no service to give us truth-
ful faculties, unless He also gave us the means of
knowing that they are truthful. This, therefore, He
has also provided. He has implanted in our souls that
| intuitional light ' (see n. 12, p. 33) whereby certain
judgments carry with them their own evidence of
truth.
(7.) As He has given us full means of knowing
other important truths, by means of these veracious
faculties, so also of knowing these: (a) that there is a
Perfection called Sanctity; (|3) that this Perfection
essentially includes Justice, Veracity, Benevolence ; (y)
that certain acts, done by certain beings under certain
circumstances, would possess the opposite quality ; or,
in other words, would be intrinsecally and necessarily
(8.) He has further given us full means of knowing
wrong.
110* PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
His Own Existence ; of knowing, that our Creator is the
One Necessary Being, Who possesses the Perfection of
Sanctity, as He possesses all other Perfections also, in
an infinite degree.
(9.) He has added the sanction of His Command
to the intrinsic obligation of the Natural Rule ; He has
forbidden those things which are intrinsecally wrong,
and counselled those which are intrinsecally preferable.
And these Commands and Counsels are made known to
us pari passu with our knowledge of the Natural
Rule itself, by the very Reason which He has given us.
In other words, He has promulgated to us the Natural
Law, by His gift of Reason.
After all that has been said in this Chapter, nothing
more need be added to make this whole statement fully
intelligible : I will but call your attention to one parti-
cular contained in it. You will remember, that in the
first Section I protested most strongly against the
notion, that our confidence in the trustworthiness of
our faculties depends on our knowledge of God's Vera-
city. Now I have just been stating, that the fact of
their trustworthiness arises from the fact that God is
Veracious; and I wish you clearly to bear in mind, that
these two statements are most perfectly distinct. To say
that the fact of their trustworthiness arises from the
fact of God's Veracity, is true and indeed undeniable.
But to say that our knowledge of the former fact arises
from our knowledge of the latter, — or in other words,
that we must know God to be Veracious before we can
reasonably trust our faculties, — this is not only erro-
neous, but absurd. It is of course impossible, without
first trusting our faculties, to approach ever so distantly
to the conviction that God is Veracious.
51*. Throughout this Section I have been con-
sidering the vitally important subject before us, by
the best light which my reason can give me. Var-
ious Catholics however seem to be under the impres-
sion, that it is not a question on which Reason is free to
decide ; that there is at least some overwhelming amount
of theological authority for the thesis, that all moral
THE RELATION BETWEEN GOD AND MORAL TRUTH. Ill*
obligation springs from God's Command. So far is
this from being true, that I believe the very great pre-
ponderance of theological authority to be against any
such thesis. But the mere fact that this impression
exists, will (I am sure) be admitted as a sufficient
reason, for at once proceeding to examine its grounds.
Here therefore, as in one or two other parts of the
present volume, I will make no scruple of transgressing
strictly philosophical ground, for the sake of the prac-
tical advantage obtainable by such transgression.
In the fourth Section then of the present Chapter, I
will bring together such a collection of theological
authorities, as will be amply sufficient for my purpose.
They will be amply sufficient to shew, how absolutely
unfounded is the above impression ; and how completely
at liberty is every Catholic to hold those doctrines
which have been here advocated, if they appear to him
supported by Reason.
This fourth Section, for reasons of mere physical
convenience, has been removed to the end of the volume
(see Preface) ; but it may be studied at once, imme-
diately after the present. Very possibly however, you
may yourselves have had no such misgivings as those
above mentioned; very possibly you may have never
supposed that the doctrines which I have been engaged
in advocating, whatever their philosophical merit, are
theologically reprehensible. In that case, you may
perhaps prefer to postpone the purely episodical study
of theological authorities, and proceed at once to the
further exploration of Moral Truth.
113
SECTION V.
On the Idea of Moral Worthiness.
48. I pointed out in the second Section, that there is a
considerable number of intuitions, readily elicited by all
who have attained the use of reason, which include the
idea of ' ought' or c moral obligation/ I will now direct
your attention to another considerable class ; containing
another idea closely allied to the former, which we
may call ' moral worthiness.' Let us give one or two
illustrations.
A. and B. are two men of my acquaintance. A. de-
votes the main current of his life — devotes his labour,
his time, his wealth, — to instructing the ignorant,
relieving the distressed, promoting the cause of virtue.
B. on the other hand, without grossly neglecting any of
his immediate duties, leads on the whole a life of great
comfort and enjoyment. I am very far from intuing, as
an obvious truth, that B.'s course of life is wrong ; but
supposing I believe A.'s motives to be pure and simple,
I intue it as most undeniable, that A.'s course of conduct
is morally better, more worthy of praise, or (to use the
phrase which we may consistently adopt) more morally
worthy.
Or let us proceed, from general courses of conduct,
to individual acts ; let us revert to our old hypothesis
of the deposited jewel. Suppose I am surrounded with
enjoyments, while he to whom I owe them is in penury.
By restoring that jewel which is his, and which will
enable him to procure all necessaries, I satisfy the re-
quisitions of moral obligation. But if, from the pure
motive of gratitude, I give him plentifully from what is
mine, I act in a manner more morally worthy. If from
i
114 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
the same motive (and supposing no other claim to
interfere) I share with him my whole substance, my
act is more morally worthy still.
49. Now after what has been said at length in the
second and third Sections, it will not be necessary to
spend many words on a further step. When we say
that act H, e. g. is more morally worthy than act K,
this idea 'moral worthiness' is not capable of being
decomposed or analysed into other more simple ideas.
We do not mean, e. g. that act H is more beneficial to
society than act K ; nor that it is more conducive to
the agent's happiness. It is far more probable indeed,
that the more virtuous act is more beneficial to society,
and more conducive to the agent's (even temporal)
happiness. But to make either of these two latter
statements is one thing ; and to make the original
statement, viz. that H is morally worthier than K, this
is quite another thing. It does follow on the other
hand, by the strictest necessity, that if H is more morally
worthy than K, it is more deserving of praise, more
deserving of reward, and the like.
Further, and very importantly; when we say that
act H is more morally worthy than K, we do not at all
mean that H is more pleasing to our Creator than K.
The very opposite is true ; H is more pleasing to our
Creator than K, because it is intrinsecally better. Let
us make a supposition, which is intrinsecally impossible,
Eet is perfectly imaginable (see n. 20, arg. 3, pp. 48, 9).
et us suppose we had been created by a being, who
should be necessitated indeed to avoid what is intrin-
secally wrong, and to forbid it in his creatures ; but who
should be in no way necessitated to prefer that which is
intrinscally more morally worthy. Let us suppose a
being, who should be less pleased with the conduct of
one who labours earnestly to avoid every deliberate
imperfection, than with that of another who is totally
indifferent on the subject. It is quite plain that such
a being would not be holy, in that sense in which we
ascribe that Attribute to our own dearest Creator —
the Infinitely Holy — the one Fountain and Source of
ON THE IDEA OF MORAL WORTHINESS. 115
holiness. When Reason declares to us that our Creator
is the Cumulus of all Perfections, it inclusively declares
that He possesses Sanctity. And when it declares that
He possesses Sanctity, it declares, among other things,
that, by the very necessity of His Nature, He prefers
that which is intrinsecally more morally worthy to that
which is intrinsecally less so.*
50. It is very plain, that there is some close con-
nection between the idea of moral obligation and the
more general idea of moral worthiness. Let us next
therefore consider precisely what that connection is.
We have already seen its essential nature ; for we have
seen that the being morally obliged to do this or that
act, means simply that the failing to do it would be
morally evil or morally unworthy.^ We may suppose
then a graduated scale, as of a thermometer, in-
cluding all moral worthiness and unworthiness ; and
moral obligation will be at the zero point of moral
worthiness. Whatever may be the circumstances of
the moment, if I simply comply with my obligation and
do no more, I keep clear indeed of moral evil ; but
that is all which can be said. I am at zero point;
removed, and only just removed, above the region of
moral evil. In proportion as I rise above that zero
point, I perform acts more and more morally worthy.
If I fall below that point, I fall from the region of
moral worthiness altogether; and in proportion to the
degree in which I sink below it, my acts become more
and more sinful.
Let us illustrate this, by reverting to our old case
of the jewel. If I share my whole fortune with my
friend, this is more morally worthy than if I merely
give him even a large gift in addition to his jewel.
Another act, still less worthy, will be illustrated, if I
give him but a small gift in addition to his jewel ; and
the lowest, consistent with avoiding evil, if I simply
restore the jewel. It is plain I cannot fall below this
* This statement will be further explained, and (in some sense) qualified,
in the last Section of this Chapter,
t See n. 19, p. 42.
116 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
act in moral worthiness, without actual sin : hence
this act, the restoration of the jewel, is of strict obli-
gation.
51. Here then are two different classes of moral
judgments: (1) this or that act is good, is obligatory,
is morally evil; (2) this act is more morally worthy
than that. And take the two classes together, so far
from its being at all a rare or exceptional thing to
elicit such judgments, it will perhaps be found on con-
sideration, that there are no kind of judgments what-
ever, more frequent with the great mass of mankind.
4 How wrongly A. behaved on such an occasion P * How
admirably B. encountered that trial!' 'How far pre-
ferable is C.'s conduct to D.'s!' Such judgments as
these, surely succeed each other quite rapidly in the
mind throughout the day. We need not at all, and
we cannot, maintain, that the moral judgments of men
in general are commonly correct ; but we do say that
they are very frequent. In other words, there is no
one idea more constantly familiar to the mind of every
man, than the idea of moral worthiness considered in
itself. Men may make great mistakes, as to those acts
or persons whom they praise or blame ; but praise
and blame, for supposed merit or demerit, are among
the very commonest thoughts in their mind.
Much might be said, were this the appropriate
place for saying it, on the religious inferences de-
rivable from this fact. Our Creator, it seems, is quite
in a special degree solicitous, to ensure our remem-
brance of this moral Rule which has claim over all our
actions. He has therefore so constituted our nature,
that even those who are most engrossed with tem-
poral objects, who live most undividedly for wealth,
or honour, or comfort, bear constant witness against
themselves, in this unceasing reference to the ideas of
moral obligation and moral worthiness. But all such
considerations rather belong to a later part of our
work ; and here I need only say, that you will find it
(I expect) a most edifying and almost surprising
study, as you find one particular after another evolved,
ON THE IDEA OF MORAL WORTHINESS. 117
of those which shew how singularly He has formed our
nature for the practise of virtue.
52. It will be now advisable, to extend the sense
in which we use that important phrase the 'Natural
Rule/ We have hitherto used it as synonymous
with the ' rule of independent obligation7 (see n. 24).
Let us now use it more extensively, as synonymous
with the ' rule of independent virtuousness.' Accord-
ing to its former acceptation, it signified the sum of all
those obligations, which bind us independently of God's
commands.* According to its new acceptation, let it
include also the sum of all those cases, in which one
act is more morally worthy than another, inde-
pendently of any special intervention exercised by
God.
53. Here then we are led to a further very im-
portant enquiry ; how far does this Natural Rule extend.
And this general enquiry subdivides itself into three.
First, we may ask how far in fact does this Natural
Rule extend. Secondly, how far is reason in the ab-
stract capable of discovering it. Thirdly, as to reason
in the concrete, — exercised under those circumstances
in which mankind are placed, — we may ask how great
progress is reason in this sense able to make, towards
discovering the Natural Rule.
Our meaning may be illustrated by a parallel case.
There is an indefinite number of properties impressed
by God on matter, which, by their various combina-
tions, account for all the physical phenomena of the
universe. He who should know all these properties,
and all their combinations, would be a master of all
physical truth. Now (1) nothing is more probable,
than that there may be many of these properties, which
Reason is absolutely unable to approach ; it may either
not possess the data, or the intrinsic power, which
would enable it even to advance towards their dis-
* So Vasquez, already quoted n. 30 : ' Regida Naturcdis, quae nulla
voluntate sed suapte natura constat.' * Ante omne Imperium, ante omnem
Voluntatem, immd ante omne Judicium [Dei, est] regvla qucedam harum
actionum, quse suapte natur& constat.'
118 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
covery. And yet we might in other ways, as, e. g. by
Revelation, be enabled to acquire a full knowledge of
such properties. But (2) there will be a considerable
number of other properties, whose discovery is quite
within the domain of Reason : Reason, exercising its in-
trinsic power on those data which are within its grasp,
may be fully competent to attain them. And yet (3)
there may be multitudes of these latter properties
which are so circumstanced, that the reason of man
here below never will in fact, nor indeed can, arrive
at their knowledge. The process, required for that
purpose, may need such constant and prolonged exer-
cise of Reason, or so very wide a collection of data,
that in fact, circumstanced as we are in this visible
world, we are utterly unable to accomplish the task.
Just so, as to the Natural Rule. One question is,
how far it does in fact actually extend; another, how
far Reason in the abstract is able to attain it; a third,
how far our reason, in our existing circumstances,
enables us to proceed. The following Section will
be devoted to a consideration of these three most
important questions.
119
SECTION VI.
On the Extent of the Natural Rule.
54. Various intuitive judgments, which are most
certainly legitimate, and which are common to all
mankind, enable us to state with confidence one very
important proposition. Justice, Veracity, and Benevo-
lence, are intrinsecally good ends of action. The phrase
'good' or virtuous 'ends of action,' I use in somewhat of
a technical sense ; which will be fully explained as we
proceed. On the other hand, when we speak of three
ends, we are not speaking with very strict accuracy ;
for Veracity should by rights be included under Justice.
I mention Veracity however separately, because of its
special importance ; since (as already implied) it is
only by proving the intrinsic virtuousness of Veracity,
that our acceptance of a revelation becomes possible.
However, even if the above statement in itself could be
considered as ambiguous in any particular, the course
of our remarks will amply explain and define it.
I intue that it is wrong, not to give my friend back
his jewel : why ? because it is contrary to Justice. I
intue that it is wrong, if a governor punishes his subjects,
for that which they have no real power to avoid : why?
because it is contrary to Justice. I intue that it is
wrong, if a traveller comes home, and tells me all kind
of falsehoods about the countries which he has visited :
why ? because it is contrary to Veracity. Suppose any
one has the power most readily to do a great deal, in
the way of lessening some terrible mass of evil which
surrounds him ; to save numbers, e. g. from imminent
danger of death ; and suppose nevertheless he does not
move a finger in the matter : I intue that such conduct
is morally culpable; why? because it is contrary to
Benevolence.
120 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Here are cases, where Justice, Veracity, and Bene-
volence, are intued as obligatory : now for others,
where, putting aside the question of obligation, they
are intued as virtuous ends of action. A governor is
aggrieved by some great public evil ; but on preparing
to punish the offenders, he finds that they have really
not had the full power of acting otherwise. Though
greatly provoked at the evil which has ensued, and
though the punishing of these men would be very ex-
pedient as a piece of state policy, he refuses to do so,
because it would be unjust. I intue that this act,
wherein his will is thus powerfully affected towards the
virtuousness of Justice, is a very virtuous act. A
traveller returns from abroad; and, though he might
obtain great eclat and make himself a very interesting
object by romancing on what he has seen, he confines
himself to strict and sober truth. I intue that these
acts, wherein his will is thus powerfully affected towards
the virtuousness of veracity, are very virtuous acts.
A landlord devotes his energy, his time, his money,
to redress the misery which exists among his tenants or
their labourers. I intue that, if he does all this because
his will is so powerfully affected to the virtuousness of
Benevolence, these various acts are extremely virtuous.
Nor are these principles confined to external acts :
they apply fully as much to acts purely internal ; to
acts which are consummated in the will, nay, and to acts
which do not in any way contemplate eveufuture action.
If I earnestly wish that A. B., who has laboured in the
service of the state, may receive his just reward —
though I do not contemplate my own agency as tend-
ing in any way (now or hereafter) to obtain it for him —
yet such wish alone is virtuous, under the head of
Justice. If I rejoice in the thought, that some invention
has greatly mitigated human suffering, — that mere act of
complacence is virtuous under the head of Benevolence.
Still more keenly do I intue, that to rejoice in the
sufferings of any of my fellow - creatures, simply as
such, is among the most detestable sins I can commit ;
one which, more than almost any other, has earned the
title of diabolical. I intue that this is most fully the
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 121
case, even though I should not contemplate adding to
those sufferings by my own acts in the slightest degree.
It is implied in what we have said — but it needs to
be explicitly stated — that there is nothing like this on
the opposite side. No one ever thought another vir-
tuous for this precise reason, viz. because his will was
so powerfully affected towards injustice, mendacity,
and cruelty. The meaning and force of this remark
will be made clearer, by supposing an objection.
4 Surely,7 then it will be urged, ' there are number-
4 less cases, where unjust, mendacious, and cruel acts
4 are applauded. We invade an enemy's country ; and
' think it no kind of sin to deprive the poor inhabitants
4 of that harvest, on which they have been expending a
4 year's toil : yet what can be more unjust ? Again,
4 multitudes of men think a lie most allowable, if there
4 be no other means of defending a friend's life or
4 honour. Lastly, men often think it lawful to inflict
4 very considerable suffering — e.g. all the horrors of
4 war — simply for the sake of national honour or terri-
4 torial aggrandisement. Here then is a large number
4 of intuitions, wherein injustice, mendacity, and cruelty
4 are held as virtuous.'
The answer to this is extremely simple. But before
giving it, c ex abundanti cautela ' it may be as well to
make one most obvious remark. The question through-
out is not what men do, but what they approve; not
what course they in fact follow, but what they believe
to be the path of virtue. And now to the objection.
Certainly men often think it lawful to inflict suffer-
ing, for very inadequate reason. They think it lawful,
under many circumstances, to say what is false. But
why ? Not because of any supposed virtuousness in
mendacity or cruelty as such ; on the contrary, they
probably enough recognize the intrinsic claims of
Veracity and Benevolence, at the very moment of
acting in opposition to those virtues. Their judgment
is of the following kind. 4 Undeniable as is the claim
4 of Veracity where there is no reason to the contrary,
4 my friend's claim on me, to save his life or honour, is
4 superior and should prevail.' And the very sf\me
122 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
account may be given of the other cases specified. It
is not mendacity, that is recognized as having a counter
claim to Veracity ; but a friend 's life or honour, which
is thought to possess such a counter claim. A great
multitude of acts are recognized as morally good, simply
because they are motived by the virtuousness of truth-
telling as such: — when was one ever regarded as good,
simply because it was motived by the (supposed)
virtuousness of lying as such ?
This will appear even more clearly, if we contrast
any of those instances, in which (I fully admit) men do
elicit false intuitions, in regard to virtuous ends of
action. Many, e. g. think it morally culpable, if they
leave a stinging injury unrevenged. They will there-
fore go through great labour and self-denial, for the
purpose of vengeance ; for the sake of fulfilling the
(supposed) obligation of vindictive retribution. And
many, who witness this conduct, will admire them for
so acting. Vindictive retribution then is regarded by
many, I admit it, as a virtuous end of action. But
who can say that injustice, mendacity, or cruelty, has
ever been regarded as such? Who ever thought it
his duty to do any one thing, for the sake of fulfilling
any supposed obligation to practise injustice, mendacity,
or cruelty, simply as such, and for its own sake? or
who ever admired another because he so acted ?
The various intuitions, which have been assumed as
legitimate in the preceding argument, are proved to be
so, on precisely the same grounds, which have been
already (we suppose) admitted as satisfactory. Let
any one look back at our reasons for maintaining that
the intuition of moral obligation is itself legitimate (see
n. 17, pp. 37, 8); he will see that they apply in their
full force to the intuitions which we have here been
considering. We infer therefore, that Justice, Veracity,
and Benevolence, are legitimately intued as virtuous
ends of action.
55. Before proceeding with our research for other
virtuous ends, let us consider various important truths,
which are implied in the very fact of certain ends being
virtuous. Such truths, as soon as established, will hold
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 123
at once in regard to Justice, Veracity, and Benevolence ;
and they will also of course hold in regard to any other
ends, which we may afterwards prove to be virtuous.
(1.) We have already seen, that in recognizing
any virtuous end of action, it is implied that we never
regard, as lawful, the contravening such an end purely
for the sake of pleasure or caprice. We may often
indeed consider that, in this or that particular case,
some other virtuous end, which happens for the mo-
ment to conflict, has a preponderating claim ; that
Veracity, e. g. may be sacrificed to the claims of
Justice or Benevolence. But where no conflicting
claim can be put forward, we universally admit the
authority of any one virtuous end to be paramount
and indefeasible. We never think it lawful, e. g. to
inflict cruelty, except to satisfy the claims of Justice or
of some other virtuous end.
56. (2.) Suppose I confer various benefits on my
fellow-men, yet not at all because of the virtuousness
of Benevolence, but for some different end altogether :
for instance, suppose I so act in order that I may keep
a promise made to my dying father. Such an act may
be virtuous under the head of Fidelity (i. e. observance
of promises) ; or under the head of Filial piety : but in
no sense under the head of Benevolence. Or suppose I
so act, for the simple purpose of obtaining the affection
of those whom I benefit, with the sole view of reaping
some temporal advantage by their help. Such an act
will have no virtue whatever ; since it is wholly motived
by a desire of temporal gain. Both these statements
are obvious as soon as made ; from them, and from
an indefinite number of propositions precisely similar
and intued with equal clearness, we derive a very
important generalization.
No act is virtuous, unless it be directed to the
virtuousness of some end recognized as virtuous ( c nisi
fiat propter honestatem boni cujusdam honesti'). Nor
is it virtuous at all, except so far as regards that end,
or those ends, to the virtuousness of which it has been
directed.
124 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
There is no philosophical proposition, more con-
stantly used in Theology than this ; I must beg you
therefore most carefully to consider its meaning and
its proof, and remember it for future use.
57. (3.) We are now able easily to understand the
distinction, so frequently expressed by philosophers,
between objective and subjective morality. To confer
great benefits on a multitude of men, is objectively most
virtuous ; but if I do so merely for the sake of tem-
poral gain, my act is subjectively immoral. In ob-
jective morality, we consider merely the thing done or
resolved on ; but in subjective morality, we consider
the frame of mind in which, the circumstances under
which, above all the end for which, the agent does
it or resolves on it. Nothing is more common, than
for acts to be objectively virtuous, but subjectively
sinful.
On the other hand, it must always be subjectively
sinful, to do that which I recognize as objectively wrong.
It is a contradiction in terms to say, that any circum-
stances can make me right, in doing that which I know
to be under all circumstances wrong.
But I may often be subjectively virtuous in doing
what is objectively wrong, supposing that I do not
know it so to be. What those circumstances are, —
or in other words when and how far ignorance excuses
from sin, — is a further consideration. You will find
hereafter, when we arrive at the subject, that there
is hardly a more difficult question in all Theology.
The same distinction applies to relative degrees of
moral worthiness. Let me assume, what every Ca-
tholic holds, that the life of Obedience, Poverty, and
Celibacy, objectively speaking, is intrinsecally more
morally worthy than the life of an ordinary Christian.
Yet if I have no vocation to that life, — in other words,
if God's gifts to me, whether of nature or grace, are
such that I promote my own sanctification better by
the more ordinary course, — then subjectively, in my own
case, that ordinary course is the more morally worthy
of the two. Or again, if in any way God were to
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 125
express His preference that I should pursue the more
ordinary course — wishing, e. g. so to employ me in some
providential work — then also this course would be sub-
jectively the better. But on this latter instance, God's
expression of a preference, we will here say no more, as
we shall treat of it expressly in the next Section.
58. (4.) A. restores his kind friend's deposit under
circumstances of great trial : by doing so, he brings
himself into the necessity of labouring for his daily
bread. B. restores the deposit, without thereby in-
curring any serious inconvenience. Objectively speak-
ing, A.'s act is more virtuous than B.'s ; for the just
and obligatory act is performed under circumstances
of greater difficulty.
But is A.'s act also subjectively better ? On the
surface, we should reply c certainly yes ; ' but a little
consideration will shew that something more has to
be said. Why are we inclined to think A.'s act the
better ? Because, by the very circumstance of resisting
such great temptation to dishonesty, he displays a will
firmly and efficaciously adhering to the virtuousness of
justice. But it is abundantly possible, that B.'s will
may in fact adhere quite as efficaciously to that vir-
tuousness ; only that he has no opportunity for dis-
playing that fact. If therefore we knew (e. g. by
Revelation) that such was in truth the case, we should
have no hesitation in considering that B.'s act was
subjectively as virtuous as A.'s. Here by generalisa-
tion we arrive at another proposition, which is of
extreme importance both to Theology and Philosophy.
My act, casteris paribus, becomes subjectively more
virtuous, in proportion as my will adheres more
firmly and efficaciously to the virtuousness of the
virtuous end 'or ends.
59. (5.) We are now able to arrive at our general
idea of a perfectly holy being. And first we will
suppose that being to be finite.
The intuitions, on which our argument has hitherto
rested, apply not to men only, but to all rational
creatures ; as will be evident to any one who re-
126 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
considers them. A finite being then, who should be
perfectly good or holy, will unite two characteristics.
First, he will avoid all sin ; secondly, his will will
adhere to the various virtuous ends of action, with a
degree of firmness and efficacity proportioned to the
degree of his sanctity.
Even at the present stage of our argument then, we
have proved so much as this. So soon as we establish
by Reason the existence of an Infinitely Perfect Being,
we establish the existence of a Being, Whose Will
adheres with infinite firmness and efficacity to the
virtuousness of Justice, Veracity, and Benevolence.
And thus, without going further, we have done all
that it is necessary for Reason to do, in order that the
reasonable acceptance of a Revelation may be possible.
For we have shewn that Veracity is a part of Perfec-
tion ; and that we are warranted therefore in believing
whatever a Creator, Infinite in Perfection, authenticates :
whether He does so by miracles or in any other way.
60. An objection indeed may here be interposed,
which it would be most unfair to pretermit. 4 God's Will,
' as we have seen, adheres in an infinite degree to the
4 virtuousness of Benevolence ; and yet this is per-
4 fectly consistent with the fact, that He often acts in
' opposition to Benevolence, nay, and with considerable
' severity, towards His creatures. In acting thus,
4 His WTill is directed to the virtuousness of Justice ;
* of requiting worthily deeds of sin.* In like manner
4 then, His Will may adhere in an infinite degree to the
4 virtuousness of Veracity ; and yet this may be con-
4 sistent with the fact, that here and there He acts in
' opposition to Veracity, while aiming at some other
4 virtuous end. The intuitions, on which you pur-
4 ported to ground the virtuousness of Veracity, did
4 not profess at all to establish its absolute obligation
4 under all circumstances ; but only its intrinsic vir-
4 tuousness, and its obligation where higher claims do
6 not interfere.1
* This question of retributive punishment will be considered later in
the Section.
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 127
It is certainly necessary, yet at the same time easy,
to answer this ohjection. I answer it thus. If there is
an intuition, in the whole circle of them, which is un-
deniably legitimate — which every human being forms
as a matter of course — which exceeds the mathema-
tical axioms themselves in its absolutely irresistible
character — it will be the following : — 'A creator, who
should promulgate to his creatures a false revelation,
would not be holy.' This intuition then is most cer-
tainly legitimate, and it amply suffices for our purpose.
It is quite true that many moralists will allow to men
various cases, in which without sin they may speak
falsely;* but in all cases without exception the reason
of this is, because there are certain important ends,
which are unattainable except through such false speak-
ing. In God, I need hardly say, nothing of the sort
can have place; there cannot by possibility be any
want of power, in carrying out His various ends. Lugo
has a remark similar to this : —
" Qusestio propria nostra prsesens non est, an Deus possit dis-
pensare cum homine aliquando ut mentiatur vel falsum affirmet ;
quse quidem qusestio pertinet magis ad primarn secundse in tract,
de legibus, vel secundam secundae in quaestione de mendacio.
Qusestio autem nostra est de solo Deo, an ipse Deus aliquando
possit licite mentiri, vel fallere et falsum revelare : et ad intallibi-
litatem fidei divinse sufficit, quod Deus fallere non possit nee falsum
testificari, etiamsi homines ex dispensatione Dei id possent licit&
facere. Et quidem, licet aliquis concederet homines aliquando
id posse licite facere, vel ob necessitatem vel ex Dei dispensatione,
non posset id de Deo concedi ; in Quo, ut Plato supra adductus
monuit, non posset locum habere excusatio ilia necessitate : cum
Deus facillime posset, absque mendacio, omnia pericula«et incon-
venientia impedire." — De Fide Divina, d. 4, n. 59.
61. We have now then established securely Justice,
Veracity, and Benevolence, as stars in the constellation
of moral perfection. To another class of virtues, we
may with equal ease vindicate a similar place ; I mean
those which relate to God. So soon as we believe in
an Infinite and Holy Creator, the following intuitions
are most obviously legitimate. ' It is a duty to revere
* No Catholic moralist, however, allows this.
128 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Him because of His Greatness/ ' to obey Him because
of His just Authority,' ' to aim at His approbation as
being our moral Governor,' ; to conform our Will to His
because of His Sanctity :' — all these intuitions, I say, are
most obviously legitimate. They are not indeed so
universally elicited by all mankind, as are those on which
I have been hitherto insisting ; simply because the mass
of men either know so little, or think so little, about
God. But no one can apprehend the terms of the various
propositions just recited, without intuing the truth of
these propositions. They apply also, as is most evi-
dent, not to men only but to all rational creatures.
62. But there are other virtues which, in the Christ-
ian's eye, have quite as great intrinsic excellence, as
Justice, Veracity, and Benevolence. I mean such as the
following : Humility, Forgivingness, Chastity. Revela-
tion indeed declares that they are intrinsecally virtuous,
and we can accept that truth of course on God's autho-
rity. Yet it is a question of great interest and of some
importance, to see how far, by Reason alone, we can
arrive at the same conclusion. I am confident that we
can, to the fullest extent ; and I proceed to lay down
two important principles, which will greatly help us in
the enquiry.
63. The first of these we may call the i production
of the arc' principle. It will often happen, that if we
see only a very small portion of the arc of a circle, we
cannot distinguish it from a straight line : produce it,
and its real nature is apparent. Something altogether
analogous takes place in reference to moral conduct.
If act A be virtuous under circumstances C, since
morality is necessary, a similar act will be virtuous
whenever similar circumstances recur. We have
therefore to judge, not on an isolated case, but on a
whole class of cases ; we have to consider, not simply
whether one act A is virtuous, but whether all these
acts A are virtuous. And it will frequently happen, that
the multitude of men might have been unable to form
any confident opinion on the former question, who may
yet decide with the most perfect clearness on the latter.
For instance, ' is it lawful for a man harassed by poverty
ON THE IDEA OF MORAL WORTHINESS. 129
c (I am not supposing actual danger to life) to take
' something from his rich neighbour ? the latter would
* hardly so much as be aware of the loss, while to the
'former it would be an inestimable benefit/ There
are perhaps many, who could not at all events see
very clearly that this is wrong. But put the case
universally — produce the arc — there will be no doubt
as to the decision. No one will fail to see, how mon-
strous would be the supposition, that every one, who
considers himself harassed by poverty, may plunder his
rich neighbour. To mention no other consequence —
the rich neighbour would soon become as poor as they.
On this ground alone, were there no other, special
weight would be due to the moral judgments of a good
man. He acts consistently on his moral rules, hour
after hour, day after day ; and by consequence he has
unconsciously c produced the arc.' His moral rules
have been applied to a large number of parallel cases,
and have been proved able to bear the weight of sus-
tained and consistent moral action.
64. But the second principle to which I have
alluded (n. 62), goes far more nearly into the heart of
the matter than the first ; and indeed (in my humble
opinion) gives us far more light on the real trust-
worthiness of moral judgments, than anything which
has hitherto been said throughout this Section. It will
require therefore to be treated, at a length somewhat
proportioned to its importance ; and it will necessitate
some little psychological investigation. The latter cir-
cumstance is a matter for regret ; as it would have been
undoubtedly more convenient, if we could have reserved
all our psychology for the next Chapter.
I assume then, from what will be said more at
length in the next Chapter, that the soul is a simple
substance. When therefore we speak of dividing it
into intellect, will, and the like, we are not speaking of
any real division ; the intellect and will are not two
different parts of the soul, as fore and aft are two dif-
ferent parts of a ship. When the soul puts forth acts
of cognition, it is convenient that those acts be referred
K
130 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
to the intellect ; when acts of volition, to the will : and
the intellect and will respectively are but abstract terms
used accordingly.
To this remark we here add another. Just as we
divide the soul into intellect, will, and the like, so we
subdivide the intellect into its different faculties. In
this case, as in the former, nothing can be further from
our thoughts than the idea of any real division ; we are
but saying, that, for convenience of arrangement, some
intellectual operations of the soul are referred to this
faculty and some to that. Our various acts of 'memory we
refer to the remembering faculty ; our various acts of in-
ference to the reasoning faculty ; and so on with the rest.
On what principle do we ordinarily decide, as to the
number of distinct faculties which we shall enumerate ? I
think on the following. Let us suppose that there is a
number of intellectual operations, so similar to each
other, that whoever performs one of these well ordinarily
performs the others so, and whatever discipline will in-
crease his power of performing one, will equally increase
his power of performing the rest; — in such a case, we
refer these operations to the same faculty. Operations
on the other hand, which are not so similar, we refer
to distinct faculties.
Let us take our illustrations from one of the most
important classes of operation, and from one of the least
important ; the operations of remembering and the ope-
rations of observing distances at sea. The operations
of remembering are connected closely with each other
in the mode just described : he who remembers one
thing very well, probably remembers other things also
very well, which have been with equal frequency in his
thoughts ; whatever discipline will improve his power
of remembering one thing, will improve his power of
remembering other things also. The various operations
of observing distances at sea are likewise mutually con-
nected in the same way.
On the other hand, there is no probability whatever,
that he who remembers well will be clever in judging
rightly on marine distance; nor will the discipline
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 131
which assists the memory, give any material benefit on
the latter undertaking. Hence we refer our various
acts of remembering to one faculty, and our various
acts of observing marine distances to one faculty ; but
we count these two faculties as distinct from each other.
There is one faculty, and not more, of remembering ;
one, and not more, of observing marine distances : but
it is to two faculties, and not to one, that we ascribe
the respective operations, 1st of remembering, 2nd of
observing distances at sea.
In like manner, I suppose there is a distinct faculty
of judging on pictures, and another distinct faculty of
judging on music. And so we might proceed ; but that
enough has been said to explain our meaning.
I conceive that the faculty of reasoning is one, and
not more. In other words, he who reasons well on one
matter, will reason equally well on any other with which
he is equally conversant ; and the same discipline which
will make him reason better on one subject, will also
make him reason better on any other with which (as
before) he is equally conversant. This is by no means
a self-evident fact ; yet on the other hand, as it does
not bear on our argument, it will be better not to be
led away into those various statements, which would be
necessary for the purpose of establishing it. Let it
suffice then thus to have stated my own humble opinion.*
* It may, perhaps, be worth while to point out in a note, that those who
excel in logical deduction, excel equally in logical mduction. The latter
(I need hardly say) is wholly different from physical or Baconian induction ;
and appertains as simply to Formal Logic, as does deduction itself. Its type
is such as the following : ' Every right-angled triangle has this property ;
every obtuse-angled triangle has it; every acute-angled triangle has it.
But these three classes make up all triangles whatever ; hence all triangles
whatever have it.' As the deductive reasoning goes from generals to par-
ticulars, so inductive from particulars to generals. I think this inductive
reasoning is far more common than we are sometimes apt to fancy. At all
events I may take this opportunity of remarking, that it has often occurred in
the preceding pages. Thus for instance in this very Section (n. 56) I draw
attention to a particular intuition ; I state that there is a countless number
of similar intuitions ; and by logical induction I make a generalization.
It may be thought perhaps at first sight, that the acts of observing
distances at sea (to take the illustration which I have suggested) are not
intuitive but inferential judgments ; after the type of those mentioned in
n. 2. Take the following judgment — 'We are now three miles from land,'
and no doubt this is an inferential judgment. It may arise, e.g. from such
132 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Now of all these various faculties three things may
be remarked : —
(1.) Some men are by nature far less gifted with
this or that faculty than are other men.
(2.) Putting aside exceptional cases, in every man
every faculty admits of being indefinitely improved.
(3.) The one mode, by which that improvement
takes place, is practice; exercise of the faculty in putting
it to that purpose, which it was evidently intended to
subserve. We learn to remember better and better,
in proportion as we apply ourselves to learning things
by heart. We learn to intue more accurately the
mutual relations of marine distances, in proportion as
we give our attention to the task of comparing them.
We improve our judgment in music, by accustoming
ourselves to hear it. We grow in good taste for
pictures, in proportion as we give exercise to such
taste as we have.
65. Our foundation having thus been laid, I proceed
to state what appears to me the real process, whereby
our moral judgments increase in accuracy. I will first
state it and assume it to be true. When we have seen
the various results to which it leads, I will then beg
your attention to the various arguments in its behalf.
I will merely premise, that, in considering the whole
matter, we must put out of sight the fact of Revelation ;
because our question regards the power of unaided
reason to discover moral truth.
I lay down then the following two theses : —
(1.) As there is one faculty whereby we remember,
and another whereby we observe distances at sea ; a
third whereby we judge rightly on the excellence of
music, a fourth on pictures ; — so, and in precisely the
reasoning as this: 'The present distance is just three-quarters of the
distance which I observed last week ; and which I knew aliunde to be four
miles.' But it must be observed that the first part of this sentence, ' this
is three-quarters of thatl is undeniably an intuitive judgment ; and a
judgment, which will be probably true or false, accordingly as the faculty of
observing distances at sea is in a sound or unsound state. A mere landsman
will probably be altogether mistaken in forming such a judgment. This
whole remark is applicable to an indefinite number of cases, where it might
be thought that the elicited judgment is inferential and not intuitive.
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 133
same sense, there is another faculty, whereby we intue
moral truth. Let us call this the Moral Faculty.
(2.) As our other faculties improve by being put
to that purpose for which they are intended, so also
does the Moral Faculty.
66. To see the full bearing of this second thesis, let us
first consider what is the * purpose' for which the Moral
Faculty is * intended.' Evidently, that it should be the
one guide of our life. If there be such a quality as
moral evil attaching to certain actions, we cannot tell
how many, — it becomes a most indispensable duty, to
take good heed that none of those daily actions which
we are in the habit of performing, may come under the
number. It becomes, I say, a most indispensable duty,
to pass under review from time to time our course of
life, that we may carefully consider how far we have
means of knowing that any part of it is wrong. He
who recognizes that there is such a thing as moral
obligation at all, is self-condemned, unless he aims at
enthroning it in the place of absolute and despotic
authority over his whole life.
The same thing may be more accurately and pro-
fitably stated, if we here assume a proposition which is
undeniably true. When once men begin seriously to
lay to heart moral obligation, they will at once recognize
the Existence of a Holy Creator. By what process
this recognition takes place — whether, e.g. by inference,
or intuition, or in what other way, — this is a most
important philosophical inquiry, yet here we need not
consider it. It could not by possibility be discussed
satisfactorily, without occupying very considerable
space, and leading us through a number of very diffi-
cult questions; while our course of argument is not
affected by it one way or the other. I will only here ex-
plain how far 1 am from meaning, that in fact men first
arrive by means of reason at a knowledge of God. On
the contrary, I believe that in fact the first announcement
of God's existence ever comes through the agency of
Revelation ; there being no country so barbarous or so
isolated, as that some remains at least of the Primitive
134 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Revelation do not remain among them, imparting a real
light from Heaven. At the same time, to say that the
first announcement is in fact due to Revelation, is of
course most fully consistent with saying, as I do say,
that reason is superabundantly able to establish and
substantiate this fundamental truth.
Reverting then to the course of our argument, and
interweaving with it this proposition of God's Existence,
I assert that those only put their Moral Faculty to that
purpose for which it is intended, who are in the habit
of striving earnestly and perseveringly to please their
Creator. In other words, those only do so, who are in
the habit of ( 1 ) frequently passing under review every
detail of their conduct, for the purpose of considering how
far it will be approved by the Omniscient God; and (2)
of labouring earnestly, that the current of their lives
may be really in harmony with that which they have dis-
covered to be God's Will. That such a course is utterly
impossible without Prayer and Grace, I am indeed well
aware ; and we shall see this truth most fully esta-
blished, when we come to Theology. Still reason alone
would shew the importance and obligation of Prayer ;
while experience would testify to its most efficacious
results. We are able therefore to make the supposition
that men do so act with reasonable consistency, without
introducing the hypothesis of a special and authenti-
cated Revelation.
Our second thesis comes then to this : that in propor-
tion as we carefully pursue the course just described,
our Moral Faculty will acquire a constantly increasing
refinement of intuition, enabling it to form 'moral
judgments' with constantly increasing fineness and
accuracy.* To understand therefore fully the said
* This is held by Gioberti ; though I cannot but think that he is far
from laying such stress upon it, as its extreme importance deserves.
Surely all must confess, that if a truth, it is a more important one
than most others. The following is M. Alary's translation of Gioberti's
words :
" L'inclination et la propension affectueuse de la volonte* . . . tournent au
profit de la connaissance elle-meme ; 1'accroissent, la fortifient, la perfec-
tionnent. Voila pourquoi les amis des verit6s intellectives ont de celles-ci
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 135
thesis, one final question must be answered; — *"what is
precisely meant by a moral judgment?1
By a 'moral judgment/ we understand a judgment,
of which the idea of 'moral worthiness,' in one or
other of its various shapes, stands as predicate. Moral
judgments therefore will be always reducible to such
types as the following : ' A is virtuous,' ' B is of obliga-
tion,' c C is morally evil,' ' D is morally worthier than
E,' &c. &c. Thus that humility is virtuous, is a moral
judgment ; but that such or such a mental discipline
will conduce to humility, this is not a ' moral ' but a
psychological judgment. This latter judgment, I say,
does not predicate moral goodness, or badness, or pre-
ferableness, of any act or person ; but simply states
that a certain relation exists between two certain mental
phenomena. Now it is 'moral judgments,' and not
psychological nor any other, which (I maintain) will
be more accurately elicited, in proportion as the Moral
Faculty is improved through moral discipline.
66. Do we mean therefore, that as our Moral Faculty
thus grows, we are able for certain to judge more
clearly, under every combination of circumstances, what
is right or wrong, and what is morally preferable? By
no means. The Moral Faculty is able indeed to judge
more accurately on the cases brought before it ; but the
wrong case may be brought before it. This very mode
of expression suggests an obvious analogy. When we
wish to obtain a lawyer's opinion, — so to draw up our
case as fully and accurately to represent the circum-
stances, is often a very difficult task. If we perform
this task badly, though the lawyer were the best in all
England, his opinion could be of no real service. It
might be an excellent opinion on the case ; but not on
the real circumstances: the fault would be, not that
the opinion is legally erroneous, but that the circum-
stances are erroneously represented. Take another
illustration from a pair of scales. They may be so
une intuition beaucoup plus vive et plus prononcee, que ceux dont Tame
est enveloppee et endurcie dans Va/ection vicieuse des choses sensuelles? &c.
— Introduction, vol. iii. p. 40.
136 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
exquisitely made, so nicely adjusted, as to be im-
pressed by a feather's weight ; and yet what will be
the value of their decision, if the wrong parcel is
put in ?
To apply these illustrations. Our moral judgments,
as we have seen, are of the following kinds. 4 Under
' the circumstances as I conceive them, A is morally
' evil, B is lawful, C is morally better than D.J But
that the circumstances as I conceive them, shall be in
fact the circumstances as they are, — in other words that
I shall have accurately represented the circumstances
to my mind — this requires a different kind of judgment
altogether. This latter kind of judgment is one, which
it is often most difficult to form correctly ; but its
correctness in no way depends on the good condition of
my Moral Faculty. And we shall see this still more
strongly, if we consider the production of the arc (see
n. 63). For the question, on which I have to pronounce
a moral judgment, is not whether in this particular case
the act is lawful or preferable, but whether in every
parallel case a parallel act is so to be considered. It
is necessary therefore, before the requisite judgment
can be pronounced, that I shall suppose such acts,
as universally done under parallel circumstances ; — that
I shall follow out with sufficient accuracy and com-
pleteness the various results which would thus ensue ;—
that I shall follow out with equal accuracy and com-
pleteness the results which would ensue on the opposite
hypothesis; — and then, having thus brought up the
whole case (and no mere fragment of it) for judgment,
that I shall finally pronounce. Plainly it will happen
again and again, that the real difficulty is far more in
the preparatory, than in the final, process ; far more
in the process which depends on other intellectual
operations, than on that which specially appertains to
the Moral Faculty.
You will say perhaps, that if this be the only
method of arriving at a sound ethical conclusion, the
cases must be comparatively few, in which reason will
enable us with any confidence to hold such a conclu-
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 137
sion. If this be your inference, you are only antici-
pating what I shall have earnestly to advocate in a
later part of the Section. Here we are only considering
what the true process is.
A particular instance may perhaps make clearer our
meaning. The question has sometimes been raised,
whether it is morally preferable to give, or to refuse,
money to a beggar who asks alms, into whose circum-
stances I have no means of inquiring. For the moment,
we have nothing to do with decisions of the Church,
texts of Scripture, and the rest, because we are sup-
posed to be investigating the case on pure grounds of
reason. But, apart from these, as a mere matter of intui-
tion, numbers of excellent persons will in a moment
pronounce, that it is very decidedly better to give than to
withhold. Yet a little consideration will shew, that they
are not really pronouncing on the alternative intended.
Their ' scales' may be in a very good state, but wrong
4 parcels' have been put into them. They understand
the question to be, ' which of these two is morally pre-
4 ferable — the giving to an accidental beggar, or the
4 retaining for our own enjoyment.' This however is
not at all what is meant, but rather the following. 4 A
4 certain sum of money, a certain amount of self-abne-
4 gation, being fixed, as that from which the poor are
4 to be relieved — is it preferable that this sum should
* be partly given to those of whom we know nothing,
4 or that it should be wholly devoted to persons into
4 whose circumstances we can fully inquire?' Now I
suppose the * moral judgment,' which all would pro-
nounce, as soon as the case proposed is really under-
stood, is of the following kind : 4 our answer must de-
' pend on the question, which of the two courses is more
' conducive to the spiritual and temporal benefit of the
' poor as a class? that course is morally preferable,
4 which is the more conducive to such welfare' This
is the only judgment in the case, whereof * lawful,' or
4 wrong,' or 4 morally preferable,' stands as predicate ;
and this therefore is the only one which is properly a
4 moral judgment.' Thus the real difficulty here does
138 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
not lie with the action of the ' scales,' but with the pre-
liminary action, of getting together the right 'parcels'
which are to be weighed. The really doubtful part of
the question, I say, does not lie within the sphere,
within reach, of the Moral Faculty at all ; even a Saint
might judge quite mistakenly upon it : it has to be
solved, as best it may, by a careful use of our other
intellectual faculties.*
67. So far then I have frankly admitted the insuffi-
ciency of the Moral Faculty, for the determination of
moral truth. But there are other instances, and those
far more really important, in which the growth of this
Faculty is our one safe and sufficient means of arriving
at such truth. I allude particularly to the question,
what are virtuous ends of action (see nn. 54 and 62);
and I say that this question is at last far more
practically important than any other. We have seen
that he is subjectively the best man, whose will is
ordinarily fixed, with the greatest degree of firmness
and efficacity, on the various good ends of action what-
ever they may be. (See nn. 58, 59.) Our own per-
sonal progress in goodness then, depends on our know-
ledge, what these virtuous ends really are ; and it does
not depend on our knowledge of any other moral
truths whatever. Suppose a man could direct his
conduct consistently to the (supposed) virtuousness
of pride or vindictiveness, he would become, not the
better but the worse man, in actual proportion to the
steadiness and perseverance of his moral action : it
becomes therefore inappreciably important, to shew
that such a result is utterly impossible ; that it is ab-
solutely and totally repugnant to the constitution of
our nature. But let us assume that he made bona fide
ever such great mistakes, as to what is the morally
preferable way of relieving the poor; or what is the
degree of violence which he may innocently use in
self-defence ; or in what cases he may lawfully receive
* I give this as an illustration of what is meant by my principle,
should be very sorry if it were thought that I myself disapprove the habit
of giving, under various circumstances, to unknown beggars.
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 139
interest for his money ; or on a thousand other such ques-
tions. Well — I am not in the least wishing to under-
state the serious mischief of this; but evidently such
mischief is different, not in degree merely but in kind,
from the tremendous evil which must ensue, on the
preceding hypothesis ; on the hypothesis of a continued
mistake in regard to the truly virtuous ends of action.
Now as to these virtuous ends of action, three
in particular (n. 62) remained for consideration ;
Humility, Forgivingness, Purity. Let us take them
in this order.
68. As to pride, it is very certain that its sinful-
ness is no matter of universal intuition. It is plain
enough indeed, that to pride myself on what I know
to be morally wrong — on the success of my knavery
or of my lawless violence, — cannot but itself be morally
evil and detestable. Again, to pride myself on my
ancient birth or extreme wealth — no one (I suppose)
will think this virtuous ; though as to the degree of its
viciousness, there will be great difference of opinion.
But suppose I pride myself on what I believe to be
good and virtuous. There are multitudes of men, who
are just, benevolent, grateful, in their external con-
duct, mainly and principally for this reason ; that they
would be ashamed of themselves if they acted differ-
ently. This was particularly the case, with those hea-
thens who are popularly called virtuous.* Cato is
punctiliously just in his dealings; for it would greatly
lower the illustrious Cato in his own eyes, if he were
not so. He fulfils the various duties of a just man and
a good citizen, so far as he understands those duties,
from the same motive. Month after month and year
after year, he inhales the sweet incense of his own
* I am very far from meaning that heathens perform no really virtuous
acts at all. In the theological portion of our work, we shall have again and
again to consider the very important condemnation of Baius's proposition,
' Omnia opera infidelium sunt peccata,' and of his follower's, ' Necesse est
infidelem in omni opere peceare.' On the other hand we shall also
have to consider the Church's singularly emphatic enunciation, ' Fortitu-
dinem gentilium mundana cupiditas . . . facit.' — Cone. Arausicanum,
canon 17.
140 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
esteem ; and he is thus ever increasing that intense appre-
ciation, wherewith he regards his own dignity. At length,
it seems the one obviously virtuous course, that he
shall stab himself, rather than that so exalted a cha-
racter should undergo the ignominy of falling into his
enemy's power. Such is heathenism; and there have
been many Protestants in various ages, hardly better
than heathens, who have loudly applauded his con-
duct.* This habit, of priding ourselves on our sup-
posed virtue, requires such careful and frequent con-
sideration in Theology, that it should have a distinct
name of its own. I will consistently therefore call it
' moral pride.' And I ask, can it be shewn by reason,
against these heathens and heathenish Protestants, that
their intuitions on the virtuousness of moral pride are
totally mistaken?
* " The celebrated Roman patriot, Cato, stabbed himself when besieged
at Utica, rather than fall into the hands of Caesar. He thought this a very
great action, and so have many others besides. In like manner Saul, in
Scripture, fell on his sword when defeated in battle ; and there have been
those who reproached Napoleon for not having blown out his brains on the
field of Waterloo. Now, if these advocates of suicide had been asked why
they thought such conduct, under such circumstances, noble, perhaps they
would have returned the querist no answer ; as if it were too plain to talk
about, or from contempt of him, as if he were a person without any sense of
honour, any feeling of what becomes a gentleman, of what a soldier or hero
owes to himself. That is, they would not bring out their first principle,
from the very circumstance that they felt its power so intensely ; that
first principle being, that there is no evil so great in the whole universe,
visible and invisible, in time and eternity, as humiliation
" In the instance I have mentioned, the folly and the offence, in the eyes
of the Romans, was proselytizing ; but let us fancy this got over, would the
Christian system itself have pleased the countrymen of Cato at all better 1
On the contrary, they would have started with his first principle, that
humiliation was immoral, as an axiom ; they would not have attempted to
prove it ; they would have considered it as much a fact as the sun in
heaven ; they would not have enunciated it ; they would have merely
implied it. Fancy a really candid philosopher, who had been struck with
the heroic deaths of the martyrs, turning with a feeling of good-will to
consider the Christian ethics ; what repugnance would he not feel towards
them ! to crouch, to turn the cheek, not to resist, to love to be lowest !
Who ever heard of such a teaching 1 It was the religion of slaves ; it was
unworthy of a man ; much more of a Roman. Yet that odious religion in
the event became the creed of countless millions ; what philosophers so
spontaneously and instinctively condemned, has been professed by the
profoundest and the noblest of men, through eighteen centuries. So possible
is it for our first principles to be but the opinion of a multitude, not
truths?— Newman on Catholicism in England, pp. 268, 269, and 275, 276.
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 141
Our thesis on the growth of the Moral Faculty
affords us a ready means for doing so. If there be
certain acts intrinsecally evil, and before examination a
man cannot tell how many there may be, — there is an
objective rule, indefinite in extent, external to himself,
which legitimately claims his abject deference and sub-
mission ; a rule, which possesses over him nothing less
than a paramount authority, from which there is no
appeal and no escape. Reason, I say, summons him
to exhibit this deference and submission; and yet this
pseudo-virtuous heathen has totally failed in doing so.
He has pursued his darling pleasure self-esteem, with
the very same keen, impetuous, unreserved, eagerness,
with which the ambitious man pursues honour, or the
money-getter wealth. He has no more checked and
restrained himself in the violent pursuit of his charac-
teristic pleasure, than they in the pursuit of theirs. The
main difference between him and them is simply this ;
that whereas he derives his favourite enjoyment from
the thought of his own virtuousness, such imagination
of virtuousness is continually in his mind. But as for
anything like subjection to an external, authoritative,
paramount, rule, you will find no more trace of it in
his conduct than in theirs.
Indeed let us consider on what ground we should
justly blame those other characters, the ambitious and
money-getting ; for whatever argument can be found
available against them, will tell no less forcibly against
Cato himself. We should say that they are culpable
for this cause — because, having fullest means of know-
ing this Supreme Rule, in their conduct they have
ignored it ; they have turned a deaf ear to the Moral
Voice within them ; and instead of carefully measuring
their acts, one after another, by this paramount autho-
rity, they have recklessly and unrestrainedly pursued
the bent of their various inclinations. All the essential
part of this may be said, with equal truth, against the
morally proud. He, like they, has recklessly and
unreservedly pursued the bent of his dominant inclina-
tion ; in him, no more than in them, will be found any
142 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
traces of abject and slavish submission to a superior
authority. His Moral Faculty then is simply in its
infancy ; it has received no real growth whatever ; his
moral intuitions deserve neither respect nor even con-
sideration.
Now surely it needs no very careful observation of
human nature to see, that if he once began that course
of life to which reason summons him, his moral judg-
ments would begin to undergo a total revolution. In
proportion as he should even aim at pursuing the path
of humble deference to this supreme authority, however
feeble and vacillating his progress along that path, he
would see that his former course contained in itself
hardly any element of virtue ; he would see that virtue
consists, and can consist, in nothing else, than in this
submission and prostration of the will. In other words,
in proportion as his Moral Faculty should receive any
kind of cultivation, he would recognize pride as sinful,
and humility in its place as the virtuous end of action.
It is very certain indeed, that the Authority whose
absolute and peremptory claims he will thus learn to
recognize, is no mere abstract Rule, but a Personal
Being.* I have already said, that from the first moment
when we begin seriously thinking of moral obligation,
we shall begin to recognize the Existence of an All-
holy Creator. And here I may add to this, that
nothing will more tend to increase the strength, earnest-
ness, rootedness, of this recognition, than firm and con-
sistent moral action.f It is true that, as I have avoided
* See Appendix to this Chapter.
t " What is the main guide of the soul, given to the whole race of
Adam, outside the true fold of Christ as well as within it, given from the
first dawn of reason, given to it in spite of that grievous penalty of
ignorance, which is one of the chief miseries of our fallen state ? It is the
light of conscience ; the ' True Light,' as the same Evangelist says in the
same passage, 'which enlighteneth every man that cometh into this
world.' Whether a man be born in Pagan darkness, or in some corruption
of revealed religion, — whether he has heard the name of the Saviour of the
world or not, — whether he be the slave of some superstition, — or is in
possession of some portions of Scripture, and treats the inspired word as a
sort of philosophical book, which he interprets for himself, and comes to
certain conclusions about its teaching, — in any case, he has within his
breast a certain commanding dictate ; not a mere sentiment, not a mere
opinion, or impression, or view of things, but a law, an authoritative voice,
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 143
entering on the philosophical proof of God's Existence,
I am not entitled to make use of it in my reasoning :
but I have not made use of it; as the following sum-
mary of my argument will prove.
I have shewn then (1) that the very existence of
moral obligation implies the obligatoriness of a certain
course of conduct ; the course of abject deference to an
external rule: and (2) that every human being, in
proportion as he sincerely tries to pursue that course,
intues, with ever-increasing distinctness, that moral pride
is intriusecally sinful. On these two grounds I base my
conclusion, that this intuition is legitimate. And a
fully sufficient ground is afforded for this inference, by
the second thesis of n. 65 ; even as that thesis would
stand, without any reference to the Existence of a Holy
Creator. But if it be further true (as it is) that, by
beginning the same course of conduct, we come at once
bidding him do certain things and avoid others. I do not say that its
particular injunctions are always clear, or that they are always consistent
with each other ; but what I am insisting on here is this, that it commands,
that it praises, it blames, it promises, it threatens, it implies a future, and
it witnesses of the unseen. It is more than a man's own self. The man
himself has not power over it, or only with extreme difficulty. He did not
make it ; he cannot destroy it. He may silence it in particular cases or
directions ; he may distort its enunciations ; but he cannot, or it is quite
the exception if he can, he cannot emancipate himself from it. He can
disobey it ; he may refuse to use it; but it remains.
" This is conscience ; and, from the nature of the case, its very existence
carries on our minds to a Being Exterior to ourselves, for else whence did
it come ? and to a Being Superior to ourselves, else whence its strange,
troublesome peremptoriness 1 I say, without going on to the question
what it says, and whether its particular dictates are always as clear and
consistent as they might be, its very existence throws us out of ourselves,
and beyond ourselves, to go and seek for Him in the height and depth,
whose Voice it is. As the sunshine implies that the sun is in the heavens,
though we see it not; as a knocking at our doors at night implies the
presence of one outside in the dark who asks for admittance ; — so this Word
within us, not only instructs us up to a certain point, but necessarily raises
our minds to the idea of a Teacher, an unseen Teacher ; and in proportion
as we listen to that Word and use it, not only do we learn more from it, not
only do its dictates become clearer and its lessons broader and its principles
more consistent, but its very tone is louder and more authoritative and
constraining. And thus it is, that to those who use what they have, more
is given ; for, beginning with obedience, they go on to the intimate perception
and belief of One God. His Voice within them witnesses to Him, and they
believe His own witness about Himself. They believe in His Existence,
not because others say it, not on the word of man merely, but with a
personal apprehension of its truth." — Newman's Occasional Sermons, pp.
144 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
to the clear knowledge of an All-holy Being, in Whose
comparison we are but as worms or the very dust of
the earth, — it does but follow that the force of our con-
clusion is increased a thousand- fold. That a reasonable
person shall recognize a Holy and an Infinite Creator,
and yet in his daily conduct (instead of striving to
grow in humble obedience to that Creator) shall delibe-
rately aim at the promotion of his own dignity and
aggrandizement — this is a spectacle, the utter and
monstrous unreasonableness of which must strike the
most casual thinker, who has given any real cultivation
to his Moral Faculty. I speak, as my argument leads
me, of its monstrous unreasonableness; on its moral
odiousness, it is not necessary that I should speak.
We have added then Humility to our catalogue of
virtuous ends.
69. We next come to Vindictiveness. There are
various men, who regard this as an eminently virtuous
end of action ; who consider that when I have received
a serious affront or injury, a kind of obligation rests
upon me to requite it; that until I have done so, I ana
in a low and contemptible position. What is to be
said, on our principles, in opposition to such a view?
First, such an opinion is very far from being so
general as at first sight appears. Again and again the
wrong case is presented to the Moral Faculty for its
judgment (see n. 66) ; for it is supposed by multitudes,
as a matter of course, that the forgiving an injury
proceeds from cowardice. Here then they are wrong
as to the matter of fact, but not as to the moral prin-
ciple ; for it is a thing worthy of blame, that I should
so give way to fear, as to be held back by it from
conduct which I recognize as right. The real question
then must be put in some such way as the following :—
Suppose that by great deeds of bravery, or in whatever
way, I had shewn most plainly, that fear of danger
could be to me no restraint upon action ; and suppose,
having so exhibited myself, I freely forgive the most
stinging injuries, on the expressed ground that vin-
dictiveness is sinful. The question is, how great is the
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 145
number of men, who in that case would regard such
forgivingness as censurable?
Those who do so, would proceed on one, and one
only, ground. They would assume, as a first principle,
the great obligation incumbent on each man, of cherish-
ing a sense of his own dignity ; and they would regard
forgivingness as censurable, precisely because any one,
who receives an affront without resenting it, must lower
himself in his own eyes, and be deficient in that spirit
of self-exaltation which is so great a duty. The sup-
posed virtuousness of revenge is entirely built on the
supposed virtuousness of self-exaltation. Their judg-
ment then is not intuitive, but inferential ; being based
on the premiss above mentioned. But this premiss has
been overthrown (I think) in the preceding number;
we have shewn that there is no kind of virtuousness in
self-exaltation : and the premiss failing, the conclusion
also fails. Indeed whoever will attend at all carefully
to the phenomena of the human mind, will see quite
clearly the following fact. In proportion as I live more
and more in subjection to an external rule, which I recog-
nize as possessing over me a paramount claim — immea-
surably more, in proportion as I regard that paramount
authority to be no mere abstract rule, but the Personal
and Living God — in that proportion the following
result will ensue. I shall recognize more and more
clearly and unmistakably, that there is no baseness
whatever in the spirit of forgivingness, no virtuousness
whatever in revenge as such. We cannot indeed claim
this judgment as intuitive, for the reason already given ;
but it is an inference which will be more and more cer-
tainly drawn, in proportion as my intuitive judgment
on the virtuousness of humility becomes more emphati-
cally elicited.
We have already remarked (n. 54), that on the one
hand all mankind regard various acts as virtuous simply
because they are benevolent; whereas no one ever re-
garded an act as virtuous simply because it was cruel.
To this we are now able further to add, that neither can
any act of aggression on others be truly regarded as
L
146 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
virtuous, simply because it was done in revenge for
some injury, which had been previously received at
their hands.
You may object, that I have not proved vindictive-
ness to be wrong, but merely not to be of obligation.
Why may it not be lawful to requite an insult or injury,
simply for the sake of that vindictive pleasure which
we derive from so doing? I reply readily. We have
seen (n. 55) that it is undoubtedly wrong to contra-
vene any virtuous end, except for the sake of some
other obligation, which we may regard as justly pre-
ponderating. Now Benevolence is most undoubtedly
one of these virtuous ends. Hence it is undoubtedly
wrong to contravene Benevolence — i. e. to inflict an
injury on our fellow-men — except for the sake of some
other obligation. Now we have just proved, that there
is no kind of obligation to requite an injury vindictively ;
hence, neither is it lawful so to do.
70. What then will be the various motives, which can
justify infliction of pain on our fellow-men? They are
reducible perhaps to three heads : — -
(1.) Self-defence. If a burglar attacks me with
every species of violence, no other way is probably
open of repelling his aggression, except, repaying him
in kinet Or, passing from the mere physical infliction
of pain, it will often happen that I cannot vindicate
my just rights, without being the cause (contrary to my
wish) of much suffering to others. Yet the motives,
which lead me to such vindication, may most rightly
preponderate over those which would dissuade me from
it. This again is one principal end, designed by the
civil society in her infliction of punishments. Violent
and unruly men would literally tear her asunder, were
they not restrained by a salutary fear of her severe
penalties.
(2.) Moral improvement of the offender. Thus
parents punish their children to wean them from bad
habits. This also is one motive (though subordinate
to the former) which leads society to enact penalties
against transgressors.
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 147
(3.) Just retribution for moral evil. It has been
the fashion of late years, to deny in theory that the
state can legitimately act on this motive. To discuss
this question as it deserves, would carry us a great deal
too far; I will content myself therefore with protesting
most earnestly against any such notion. Indeed if the
legislator attempted really to put it in practice — if he
attempted, in his apportionment of punishments, wholly
to neglect the relative turpitude of the various offences,
and consider exclusively their relative injuriousness to
the state — I am confident he would be met by an
universal cry of horror and indignation.
However, whatever may be the functions of the
state, no Theist will deny that God acts on this prin-
ciple ; that the very idea of a Just moral Governor
includes the notion of punishing sin, no less than of
rewarding virtue.
And generally, all God's direct inflictions on man
may be classed perhaps under one or other of the three
foregoing heads.
(1.) Thus He punishes, not indeed exactly for the
purpose of Self-defence, but for the purpose of defending
and sanctioning His Laws. The punishments which He
inflicts on us here, and very much more those which
He threatens hereafter, are among the most effectual
means whereby He retains mankind in obedience.
(2.) He punishes in this life from the motive of
paternal tenderness ; for the sake of awakening men to
a sense of their faults, and giving them an occasion for
self-discipline and merit : 4 for whom the Lord loveth
' He chastiseth, and scourgeth every son whom He
4 receiveth.'
(3.) Those awful inflictions, which He will inflict
on wicked men hereafter, are but the just retribution
of the fearful 'malitia' contained in mortal sin. The
heinous character of this 4 malitia' will be considered
in our theological course.
71. We shall be returning more nearly to our
immediate subject, if we here consider another question.
' Is Forgivingness a separate and special virtuous end of
148 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
c action ? or is it only reducible to the more general head
' of Benevolence ? '
One thing is plain at starting. Suppose I have
received some most galling injury or affront, and yet
proceed at once to confer some great kindness on the
aggressor ; my will must be directed to the virtuousness
of Benevolence with a singular degree of firmness and
efficacity. But then my will may be directed with the
same degree of efficacity (see n. 58), when I am bene-
fiting some one who has not injured me. The acting
rightly under temptation, shews greater virtuousness
than could otherwise be shewn ; but it does not prove
that greater virtuousness exists, than might otherwise
exist.
Now for the question started: it is not very im-
portant, but its true answer appears to me the follow-
ing. In the case of us men — whose wills are so weak,
and who are so constantly offending our Creator—
Forgivingness is a special virtue, when based on the
remembrance that we ourselves so deeply need forgive-
ness. But in rational creatures who should not be thus
full of sin — or in ourselves when our forgiveness of
others is not based on remembrance of our own sinf ill-
ness— then I can see nothing to distinguish an act of
forgivijjgness, from any other act (internal or external)
of benevolence.
72. Lastly we come to the virtue of Purity. In one
very important respect, this virtue should rather be
classed with those of Justice, Veracity, and Benevolence,
which we first considered, than with those of Humility
and Forgivingness, which have been lately occupying our
attention. For just as no one ever considered an act
as virtuous, simply because it was cruel or mendacious ;
— so neither did any one ever consider an act virtuous,
simply because it was impure. No doubt there are
many most frightful sins under this head, which multi-
tudes of men do not regard as sinful at all; yet no one
thinks them virtuous, on the ground of the great sensu-
ality which is involved in their commission. Take then
the worst and most depraved man alive. There are
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATU11AL RULE. 149
certain of the more atrocious impurities, which even he
regards as censurable; and if I avoid these atrocities
simply because of the virtuousness of Purity, I should
receive (so far) his praise. Just then as in the case
of Justice and Benevolence, so here. There are certain
acts which are considered good, because directed, under
certain circumstances, to the virtuousness of Purity as
such ; there are no acts which are considered good,
because of being directed to any supposed virtuousness
inherent in impurity as such. By the consent of all
mankind then, Purity is a virtuous end of action.
But in another respect, Purity should rather be
ranked with Humility and Forgivingness ; for there is
no virtue, in which we see with more unmistakable
clearness, the increase of discernment which the Moral
Faculty acquires by means of exercise. Let any man
act up to his light in this matter, so far as he has the
moral power of so doing, and by help of constant
prayer, — and contemplate the certain result. It is truly
amazing, how rapidly his moral perception will expand ;
and how soon he will see foulness and pollution in a
multitude of acts, which he has hitherto regarded as
indifferent.
73. We have established then on grounds of reason
— and it is difficult adequately to estimate the import-
ance of our conclusion — that virtuous ends of action
aiv such as the following: (1) Love of God; (2) Obe-
dience to God; (3) Reverence for God; (4) Justice;
(5) Veracity; (6) Benevolence; (7) Humility; (8)
Forgivingness ; (9) Purity. We become morally better,
in proportion as our will adheres to these various ends
with greater firmness and efficacity. Moreover, as will
be evident on referring to what has been said, the whole
of our reasoning applies, not to mankind only, but to
every possible creature possessing reason and liberty.
There are but two exceptions to this statement: viz.
first in regard to Purity ; and secondly in regard to
that special motive for Forgivingness, which results from
human sinfulness.
74. Is there any probable inference which we may
150 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
now draw, as to the extent of the Natural Rule? If
we take the term according to that full sense suggested
in n. 52, we shall find reason to think it most widely
extensive. Nay, we shall find reason to think that it
reaches over almost every act of our daily life : that
every such act has by necessity its own independent
worthiness, both objective and subjective ; intrinsecally
better than this, intrinsecally less good than that. Let
A and B be two different acts, either of them at this
moment in my power to do, and which seem on the sur-
face of equal moral value. I soon find some good con-
sequence, which I had not thought of before, which
would probably result, if act A were universally elicited
under such circumstances ; or some bad consequence
which would ensue, if act B were thus elicited. Every
fresh discovery of this kind affects the relative position
of A and B in the moral scale. Then suppose that
when I have exhausted all such discoveries, the two
acts seem yet equally balanced — it still remains very
probable, that in proportion as my Moral Faculty in-
creases by exercise in keenness of perception, it will
detect some difference where now none is apparent.
But if it appears from reason highly probable, that
the Natural Rule, as discoverable by reason in the
abstract, is thus widely extensive; — it is absolutely
certain on the other hand, that our actual and practical
power of exploring it by reason is trifling indeed. How
utterly insignificant is our power of tracing conse-
quences with any accuracy ! how miserably small is the
degree, in which we have cultivated our Moral Faculty
by the practice of virtue !
The disproportion then is enormous, between the
extent of the Natural Rule on the one hand, and the
practical power of unaided reason to discover it on the
other hand. This is true of the Natural Rule, in that
wider sense which we have given to the phrase, as the
'rule of independent virtuousness' (see n. 52); audit is
no less true in its narrower sense the J rule of indepen-
dent obligation.' Nothing is more probable, than that
there may be a large number of acts, objectively sinful
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 151
in their own intrinsic nature, which man's unaided
reason would never have guessed to be such. Their
sinfulness, indeed, is in the abstract discoverable by
reason. Their sinfulness, I say, could be recognized by
any man, who should (1) possess preternatural powers
of observation ; and (2) should have given perfect
cultivation to his Moral Faculty, through a course of
obedience unsullied by venial sin or imperfection. But
as none of us are such, the sinfulness of such acts is not
(I repeat) discoverable by us ; we owe our knowledge
of it to Revelation, and to Revelation alone.
Now see how precisely this conclusion harmonizes
witli the dicta of theologians, as to the extent of the
Natural Rule in this its narrower sense. According
to Suarez, it is an ' axioma theologorum ' that under
Christianity there are no Positive Divine Precepts (see
n. 25) except only under the head of Faith and of the
Sacraments ; and he quotes a very strong passage from
St. Thomas, to that precise effect.*
Now without here proceeding to enquire, as Suarez
does, how far even these should strictly be called Positive
precepts (on which question I hope to touch in the next
Section), see how large an idea this gives us as to the
extent of the Natural Rule. Every single thing then,
forbidden under the Gospel, — except under these two
heads of Faith and the Sacraments, — is forbidden by the
Natural Rule ; is intrinsecally evil, apart from any
Divine Prohibition. All that we find in our Moral
Theology treatises under the first commandment, as to
love of God and our neighbour ; all that we find under
the sixth, as to thoughts or acts of impurity ; or under
i\\QJifth, as to forgiving injuries ; or under the seventh,
* " Intelligitur ex dictis, quomodo verum sit axioma theologorum
dicentium, in Nova Lege nuLla esse Divina Prcecepta [Positive], nisi tidei et
sacramentorum ; ut loquitur Soto in 4, d. 40, a. 4, et sequuntur alii moderni,
et Covar. in 4 Deer. c. 6, § 10, in priuc. qui id sumpserunt ex D. Th. in
dicta q. 108 a. 1, ad. 2, ubi'non tarn expresse id affirmat ; in Quodlibet
autem 4, a. 13, dicit, Legem Novam esse contentam [1] praeceptis moralibus
Naturalis Legis, et [2] articulis Fidei, et [3] Sacrameutis Gratise." — De
Legibiis, lib. 10, c. 2, n. 20.
"Christus non tradidit Pnecepta moralia Positiva, sed Naturalia itta
magls explicavit." — Ibid. lib. 2, c. 15, n. 9.
152 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
as to the duty of restitution ; all tins, and much else
which might most easily be added, is an integral part of
the Natural Rule : all the duties therein prescribed are
of independent obligation, apart from God's Command-
ment altogether. It was most perfectly free to God not
to create men at all, or not to place them under such
circumstances ; it was not free to Him, having so
created or so placed them, to abstain from giving the
sanction of His command to these duties, over and
above their intrinsic and independent obligation.
75. But here it may seem that an objection, which
has already been answered in the abstract, derives fresh
force and deserves fresh notice. ' If the region of
4 necessary moral truth,' it may be said, * is so singularly
c wide and extensive, you seem to exclude God from in-
4 fluence in His own creation, to an absolutely intolerable
4 extent.' Repeating to a great extent what has already
been said, I will give three replies to this objection. I
will only premise, that I am arguing for no private fancy
of my own, but for what Suarez calls an 4 axioma theo-
logoruna.'
(1.) First, then,. I reply, that the mere extent of
necessary truth cannot justly cause any increased diffi-
culty to the reason, though it may startle the imagina-
tion. Let it be but admitted that there is such a
thing as necessary truth, — e. g., that God has not the
power of creating an equilateral triangle, which shall
not be equiangular ; or that He has not the power of
creating a person whose obligation it shall be to hate the
Holy Creator; — let this be admitted, and everything is
conceded which can give the reason any real difficulty.
If there be one necessary truth, there may be thousands
such ; the difficulty to the reason is no greater in the
latter than in the former case.
(2.) It will be seen in the following Section, that
God does possess very considerable power, in interfering
with the Natural Rule. It will be seen that this can be
recognized as undeniably the case, without infringing in
the slightest degree on the various principles which we
have been laying down.
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 153
(3.) I appeal as I did before (n. 21) to the parallel
instance of mathematical truth. Will you maintain
that the axioms of geometry are true, because of God's
appointment? Will you maintain that the reasoning
process is valid, because of God's appointment? If
you will maintain neither of these things, you must
admit, that the whole assemblage of mathematical truth,
built by means of reasoning upon these axioms, is also
true, independently altogether of God's appointment.
But how immeasurably vast is this great assemblage of
truth ! to which indeed it is difficult to imagine that
there can be any possible limit. If then necessary
mathematical truth possesses most undeniably so vast
an extent, why should it be thought a difficulty that
necessary moral truth also is most widely extended ? *
Another objection of quite a different kind may be
made to our conclusion. It may be objected, that our
Blessed Saviour, in various parts of the Gospel, con-
trasts Christian morality with all others; and thereby
implies, that it does in many important respects add to
the Natural Law. These declarations deserve, and
shall receive, our most careful attention ; but the suit-
able place for their consideration will obviously be our
theological course. In the next Book then, I hope to
enter on the whole Scriptural bearing of our doctrine,
with sufficient accuracy and completeness.
76. The principles laid down in this Section, as they
seem certainly conformable to reason, so also add not in-
considerably to the motives of credibility on behalf of the
Catholic religion. It appears (as we have seen) from
Reason alone, in the highest degree probable, that the
Natural Law extends over a wide circle of human acts ;
while it is certain that our unassisted reason cannot
carry us beyond a most insignificant distance, in explor-
ing its various details. With these conclusions, the voice
of the Church is singularly in harmony. For theologians
declare with almost complete unanimity, on the one
hand, that the Natural Law is thus widely extensive ; on
* See a more direct treatment of this whole difficulty in the Appendix
to this Chapter.
154 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
the other hand, that one of the most important functions
performed by the Church, one of the most important
ends for which God has founded it, is to declare and
testify moral truth. Reason alone, it is constantly urged
by Catholic writers, would ever be leading us astray
in matters of morality, were it not for the Church's
infallible guidance correcting such aberrations.
Further, Reason, as we have seen, determines that
Humility, Forgivingness, and Purity are virtuous ends of
action, while their opposites can never be so. Yet of
what Protestant body can it be said, that they are to
any reasonable extent in possession of these truths?
On the other hand, who has realized and practised them
comparably in degree to the Saints of the Church ? And
is not this very fact, — their being so penetrated, so
pervaded, by those principles, — the main cause why a
Protestant ever so despises these illustrious servants of
God; why he regards them as fanatical, narrow-minded
men, totally wanting in self-respect and manly feeling ?
But on all this we shall have to speak at length in our
theological course.
77. Such then finally is the answer we give to
that wide and general enquiry, which was laid down
(n. 53) as our subject in the present Section. I must
not conclude however, without putting before you our
grounds for holding that view of the Moral Faculty,
which we have so largely used in the later part of the
Section. What then is our reason for thinking, that
the Moral Faculty increases in accuracy and precision
of judgment, through the means of virtuous action?
In answering this question, be it observed, I must
avoid various most cogent considerations, founded on
the Attributes of God; I must avoid these, I say, be-
cause in the present Chapter we have declined entering
on the formal proof of His existence.
(1.) The analogy of our other faculties suggests
one clear argument to our purpose; for every one of
them is capable of indefinite improvement, and yet by
no other method than this one of constant exercise.
To this argument one ingenious objection may be
ON THE EXTENT OE THE NATURAL RULE. 155
suggested. * Our other intellectual faculties improve
1 by means of intellectual acts, and in no other way :
4 viz. our memory by the practice of remembering ;
' our reasoning faculty by the practice of argument ;
k and so with the rest. But you represent the Moral
4 Faculty as moving towards perfection, by means
4 of acts, which appertain not to the intellect but the
* Will; not through practice in intellectual discrimi-
4 nation between good and evil, but through prac-
' tice in acting virtuously. The analogy of the other
4 faculties therefore, very far from being in your favour,
4 is directly against you.'
I reply firstly, that our whole reasoning, through-
out this Section, would stand in every respect, though
we did place the Moral Faculty in every respect on
the very same footing with all others. There is no
such phenomenon to be found, as men who exercise
themselves carefully through the day, in discrimination
between good and evil, between the greater and the
less good, — for any other purpose except this one;
the purpose, namely, of acting in accordance with such
discrimination. Those therefore who most practise the
Moral Faculty are precisely those who act most consis-
tently on its dictates. This must be taken as my direct
reply to the objection, and it is amply sufficient.
I cannot but think however myself, and that very
strongly, that the practice of virtue has a direct and
powerful effect on refining the Moral Faculty. And by
introducing the thought of a Holy Creator, we can give
a very good reason of congruity for this. Every other
intellectual faculty attains the full end for which it was
given, in proportion as we perform certain intellectual
acts : the memory, e. g. in proportion as we more accu-
rately remember the past ; the reasoning faculty in
proportion as we more bring our various opinions into
consistency with each other, and carry them forward to
their full results. The Moral Faculty is the one excep-
tion ; and for this simple reason, that it is the one which
directly and immediately dictates to the will. Neither
memory nor reasoning faculty elicit the judgment * my
156 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
will ought to do this rather than that ; ' whereas this is
precisely the kind of judgment elicited by the Moral
Faculty. So far therefore as the will fails to act in
harmony with this judgment, the faculty fails of its due
results. The Moral Faculty I say, does not attain the
end for which God gave it, except in proportion, not as
we know our duty, but as we practise it. And it is
evidently in the highest degree conformable to our
natural ideas of God's Moral Government, that He
should so act as our theory supposes ; that he should
reward those who act up to the light they have, by
imparting more light.
"It would certainly involve great disadvantages," argues a
very thoughtful writer, " if moral knowledge was gained by mere
intellectual processes. Uneducated people would be more unable
than ever to judge themselves between right and wrong: and
those who were most capable of guiding them, would not neces-
sarily be inclined to guide them right; nay, by that very know-
ledge would be enabled more easily to guide them wrong. Much
knowledge of good would be wasted on men who did not wish
to profit by it; and clever persons, without much energy of
character, would be overwhelmed, by seeing at once the extent
of that change of nature which they had to effect in themselves,
if they were to conform themselves to what was really right.
" Now so far as moral discrimination is acquired by practice,
and not by reasoning, these imperfections are avoided. Viewed
as a means of improvement for ourselves, knowledge is given
where it will be used ; of power over others, where it will not
be misused; — viewed as a blessing, it is given to the deserving;
— viewed as a trial, it is accommodated to the infirmity of the
weak.
" And on the other hand, who are they who require the
brand of ignorance to mark them in the sight of their fellow-
creatures, who deserve to be left without knowledge of anything
beyond their own miserable desires, but those who have refused
to obey such knowledge? What wiser, and what juster, and
what more really merciful law, than that man shall not be able
to receive into his head, what he will not receive into his heart
also ? What less to be wondered at, than the sentence, dreadful
as it is, that if man hardens his will, God will harden his intellect
against truth? Surely the true difficulty in the world, if we are
to find one, is not that such a law exists, but that it does not
exist more exclusively. Surely it is only the unwarrantable
value which is set on intellect in this particular age, which pre-
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 157
vents us from seeing how very strange it would be if knowledge
of this kind were given only, or even chiefly, to the wise in this
world, to the sharp, clear-headed, and argumentative, and not
to the humble and conscientious lover of goodness. What
business would they have with such ad vantages ?"*
However, as already remarked, our direct and (as
it were) formal proof of the proposition before us, must
not assume God's Existence. In meeting therefore the
objection which has been raised, it is only the former
part of my reply on which I can logically insist; but
this former part, as I observed, is amply sufficient.
(2.) I proceed now to the second argument in
behalf of our proposition ; an argument which (equally
with the first) prescinds from the Existence of God
altogether. We have proved incontestably, that there
are various genuine intuitions on moral truth : viz. all
those on which all mankind are agreed ; and especially
that fundamental one, that there is such a thing as
moral obligation, quite apart from the Will of our
Creator. Yet on the other hand, on most matters, the
diversity of men's moral judgments is extreme. Are
we to say that in all these matters all men's intuitions
are spurious? or (which is almost as strange) that on
all these matters it is quite impossible to distinguish
the genuine from the spurious ? Surely, if in regard
to the great bulk of human conduct, reason were wholly
destitute of all intrinsic power to distinguish right from
wrong, the better from the less good, a great presump-
tion would arise, that its power of deciding in the few
matters of universal agreement is but a delusion. The
reasonableness of this statement is made more evident
from the fact, that it is admitted by all mankind.
Utilitarians and others, who deny intrinsic morality,
have ever built their chief objections on this one fact,
the diversity of men's moral judgments ; while their
opponents, so far from denying the relevancy of this
fact, have expended all their skill and ingenuity in
denying or extenuating it. Here then is the first
* From a most able article on " Utilitarian Moral Philosophy," British
Critic, 1841, pp. 35 and 36.
158 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
premiss of my second argument. If reason have really
the intrinsic power in certain cases of perceiving moral
truth (and I have shewn c satis superque' that it has this
power) — it is in the very highest degree probable, that
this power extends, far beyond those comparatively few
cases on which all men are agreed. In other words, it
is in the highest degree probable, that there is some
means of distinguishing genuine from spurious intui-
tions, over and above that obvious one of men's
unanimous testimony.
My second premiss is, that according to the principle
for which I am arguing — the principle that our Moral
Faculty is developed by exercise — two things may be
undoubtedly maintained. First, Reason in the abstract
has the intrinsic power of advancing without limit,
towards the discrimination of true moral intuitions from
false, on every single detail of human conduct. Secondly,
Reason in the concrete, Reason I mean as it may be
exercised and is frequently exercised by men under
their existing circumstances, can take a very important
step in the same direction. For certainly no one can
call it an unimportant proposition, that Humility and
Forgivingness are virtuous ends of action, while their
opposites are not so. And this proposition is held with
the most complete unanimity and the strongest con-
viction, by every human being who has given himself
to the task of consistently practising virtue ; practising
it, I mean, according to the extent of his knowledge.
Mankind in general are not more unanimous in recog-
nizing that cruelty and ingratitude are evil, than these
men are unanimous in denouncing pride and unfor-
givingness.
My third premiss for this second argument is, that
no other principles (so far as I know) have ever been
laid down, on which there would be this approach to
unanimity. Certainly, so far as this last-named moral
truth is concerned, reasoning has no such tendency to
produce unanimity. No one will say that all good
reasoners have agreed, in deducing, from the first prin-
ciples of morality, the sinfulness of pride and unfor-
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 159
givingness. No one can say this, or anything ever so
distantly approaching it.
On these three premisses I build my second argu-
ment. Firstly, it is in the highest degree probable, that
there is some method, whereby reason may tend towards
harmonizing the diversity of men's moral judgments;
secondly, the principles of this Section afford such a
method; and thirdly, no others which have been sug-
gested hold out any such promise. Hence it is in the
highest degree probable, that these principles are true.
(3.) Yet at last the two arguments just given, are
in their nature quite inadequate to the kind of conclu-
sion, for which they are adduced. The real means,
whereby the genuineness of an intuition is brought
home to my conviction, must at last be some intrinsic
quality, inherent in the intuition itself; and not some
merely extrinsic fact, such as the general agreement
of mankind. Of what nature that quality is, and how
it may be securely recognized, is a question which
seems to have been most unduly neglected by philoso-
phers (see n. 9); but of the fact just stated there can
be no doubt. In regard to two of our faculties indeed,
those of remembering and of reasoning, it has already
been shewn (n. 10, p. 21) that we are actually compelled
to trust them, before we can so much as guess that there
is any agreement of mankind on the matter. But take
other instances also ; take the truth, e. g. that a pentagon
must have five angles, or that I am bound to restore my
friend's jewel : surely it is quite plain, that my convic-
tion of these truths is absolute and ineradicable, before
I have so much as considered the question whether other
men agree with me or not.
And indeed this intrinsic difference of quality, in a
genuine as distinguished from a spurious intuition, un-
deniably exists ; however difficult it may be to analyse
or explain it. Dreams, e. g. abound in spurious intui-
tions. I believe myself to see what I do not see, and
to remember what never took place ; nor does a doubt
cross my mind, on the reality of the whole scene. I
wake ; and I begin really to see, reallv to remember. I
160 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
intue with the most unmistakable distinctness, not
merely that my waking impressions correspond to truth,
but that my sleeping impressions have not so corre-
sponded.
A distinction, exactly similar in kind though less in
degree, may be found in every case, accordingly as
any individual faculty has or has not been duly ex-
ercised. A novice in music pronounces, with perfect
confidence, that a light air of Donizetti's is preferable to
a symphony of Beethoven. He gives himself for years
to the study, and at the end of that time hears again
the same two compositions. It is not merely true that
his present intuition is opposed to his first; he recog-
nizes most unmistakably a difference of quality between
these two intuitions. I repeat; it is not merely that,
when thinking of the music, he elicits an intuition
opposite to that which he remembers to have elicited
several years ago : a further phenomenon also takes
place. When thinking of that first intuition, he plainly
discerns in it a faulty and untrustworthy character.
As a matter of fact, the case is most undoubtedly the
same with moral judgments. A man of the world
holds, with the utmost confidence, that self-exaltation is
a virtuous end of action, and that he would rightly lower
himself in his own eyes, by allowing an insult to go
unrequited : he holds with no less confidence, that it
is simply absurd, to regard the more ordinary sins of
impurity as lessening a man's title to respect and
admiration. He happily yields himself to the grace
of God, and for years makes it his chief business to
adjust his moral conduct, so far as possible, in every
particular to his ideas of moral rectitude. At the end
of that time, he recognizes the virtuousness of humility,
the viciousness of impure thoughts, with a degree of
clearness which it is impossible to exceed. It is really
no exaggeration at all to say, that he has no more the
physical power of calling in question the truth of these
intuitions, than he has of distrusting his memory or his
reasoning faculty.
Indeed the difference is much greater, between
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 161
the judgments which proceed from the trained Moral
Faculty on the one hand and the untrained on the
other, — than in the case of any other faculty whatever.
And it is very easy to see the reason; viz. that the
difference in the degree of training is greater in the
case of this faculty than of any other. Take the
musical faculty for instance. He who cultivates it
most assiduously, will give to it a certain number of
hours in each day ; while he who cultivates it least, hears
probably one or other piece of music in every month.
In the Moral Faculty on the contrary, the Saint, in
almost every waking minute of every day, is pursuing
that course which tends to its refinement and per-
fection ; while the careless liver, c who remembers not
God, neither is God in all his thoughts/ floats un-
resistingly along the current of his inclinations, and
never from the motive of duty denies himself one
gratification.
A theological difficulty here however may be raised,
of the following kind. 'Faith is the one means of
'merit; but if the saint thus clearly intues moral truth,
' how can he accept it on faith ? In proportion, there-
4 fore, as a man becomes saintly, there is a constantly
' increasing proportion of his acts in which he cannot
4 merit. A more monstrous conclusion cannot well be
'imagined.' I mention this difficulty, merely to shew
that I have not overlooked it. It cannot be treated
of course, until we have methodically considered the
exact instrumentality of faith towards justification and
merit. But when this has been clearly understood, it
will be found that the above difficulty disappears of
itself.
78. One concluding question will be asked, in regard
to the statements here put forward : how far do they
accord with those usually recognized by Catholic theo-
logians and philosophers? I proceed to answer this
question.
(1.) These writers always admit the existence of
moral intuitions, which serve as premisses, from which
M
162 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
the more remote truths of morality are to be deduced.
Thus we have seen that Suarez speaks of these two truths
as dictamina rationis, ' Deus est colendus,' 4 parentes
sunt honorandi.' Now man's perception of these truths
is simply a moral intuition in our sense of the word.
The idea of deserving honour is not included in the
term ' our parents ; ' all which is meant by that term
is, ' those two human beings who have been God's
instruments in bringing me into the world.' AVhen
therefore I recognize as a 'dictate of reason' (and I
do, according to Suarez, so recognize it) that these
human beings justly claim my honour, I am simply
eliciting a real intuitive judgment.
(2.) Yet these writers do not (I think) in general
distinctly state, that my correctness in forming such
judgments will increase, in proportion as I more con-
sistently practise the duties which I know. On the
contrary, in regard to those moral truths which are
not recognized by all mankind, these writers seem to
regard such truths as known to us mainly in quite
a different way ; viz. by logical deduction from those
moral truths which are universally admitted. In laying
stress therefore on the increased power of discern-
ment, accruing (as we maintain) to the Moral Faculty
from moral practice, we lay stress on a principle, which
has not been inculcated at all prominently by Catholic
theologians or philosophers. At the same time Gioberti,
as we have seen (n. 66, note), does distinctly state it;
and for my own part (as has been said) I cannot but
regard it as altogether conformable to reason.
(3. ) Moreover there is a very great analogy, between
this principle, and the doctrine laid down by all theolo-
gians, as to the means of arriving at faith. For all say
that in proportion as men, by the help of grace, act up
to their existing light, God rewards them by imparting
further knowledge.
(4.) But indeed the common instinct of Catholics, in
regard to Saints, implies (I cannot but think) the whole
principle which we have maintained. We Catholics
ON THE EXTENT OF THE NATURAL RULE. 163
are in the habit of regarding the dicta of Saints, as
singularly authoritative in matters of morality and piety ;
and this, not with reference to their greater or less
degree of learning or ability, but to the simple fact of
their being Saints. What does this mean, except that
their moral perceptions have become in a special degree
elevated and refined, by their consistent virtue? Yet,
on the other hand, suppose that through defect of
their other intellectual faculties they are unable rightly
to apprehend any particular case submitted to them,
this is always considered pro tanto to derogate from
the authority of their judgment. Our principle then,
in both its leading features, seems to be sanctioned by
Catholic instinct.
(5.) I cannot but think, that the explicit and distinct
admission of our principle would make the vindication
of Catholic doctrine far more satisfactory, in one or
two important particulars : specially as regards the
various virtues under the head of purity. Take, as an
instance, the offences mentioned in those two con-
demned propositions, which we have already more than
once considered. (See n. 27, p. 63.) We are required
by the condemnation of those propositions, to hold that
such offences are in all possible cases intrinsecally evil,
apart from all Divine Prohibition. Now whether we turn
to Viva, Milante, or Van Ranst, surely the reasons,
adduced in behalf of this conclusion, seem painfully
inadequate, to sustain the weight which is rested upon
them. And the reason of the fact is obvious. These
theologians consider themselves bound to prove, that
the moral theses, for which they argue, are inferrible,
by way of logical deduction, from those moral theses
which are universally admitted. Now this, to say the
least, is an allegation which it is very difficult to maintain.
On the other hand, it is most intelligible, and most con-
sistent with phenomena, to say, that in proportion as
any man grows in his obedience, — his Moral Faculty,
becoming more and more enlightened, will come to
elicit, more and more keenly, a legitimate intuition of
164 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
such inherent pravity. Reason shews at least that the
fact very probably may be so ; the Church's decision
might complete all that was wanting in the way of cer-
tainty, and assure us that the fact is so.
And thus at length I bring this arduous Section to
a close.
165
SECTION VII.
On God's Power of Interference with the Natural Rule.
79. By interference may be meant either addition
to the Natural Rule or subtraction from it. I do not
mention of course change ; for this is merely subtrac-
tion of one thing and addition of another.
80. In regard to addition, it must first be remarked,
that in a very true sense, God's free Will alone is the
cause, that this Natural Rule exists at all; for it arises
wholly from His good pleasure, that free and rational
creatures have been called into existence. Accordingly,
every fresh combination of circumstances, in which He
places such creatures, may cause in a very true sense
an addition to the Natural Rule; for a certain moral
obligation may be thereby binding on a rational crea-
ture, which otherwise would not be binding on any
such creature.
The chief matter, which deserves our attention
under this head, is the great increase accruing to
the Natural Rule, from the Christian Revelation. To
give instances of this. It was perfectly free to God,
either that He should, or should not, place before men
a Revelation of Divine Truth. But when He has done
so, it becomes independently obligatory, on all who have
means of knowing this revelation, firmly to believe the
truths therein contained. Again, as it was perfectly
free to Him that the Second Person should be Incarnate,
so it was also free to Him that this most august truth
should be communicated to men. But when once it has
been communicated, there arises an independent obliga-
tion to adore the Incarnate Saviour with divine wor-
ship. It was free to Him whether He would work,
and also whether He would reveal, the miracle of
166 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Transubstantiation ; but when He has wrought and
revealed it, men are under the independent obligation
of paying divine homage to that God, Who lies hid
under the Sacramental species.*
81. A far more difficult and more important ques-
* "Eo ipso quod mysteria fidei sufficienter proponantur, intrinsece et ex
naturd rei sequitur obligatio credendi quae proposita sunt
" Sed instabis ; ' quia in Lege Nova non tantum est prseceptum cre-
' dendi haec mysteria, quasi ex suppositions revelationis et propositionis
* rerum credendarum, sed etiam est absolution prceceptum ea audiendi et
* sciendi, et consequenter credendi ; quod est praeceptum longd diversum, et
' simpliciter positivum : ergd quoad hoc negavi non potest, quin Lex Nova in
' materia fidei addiderit positiva praecepta. Assuinptum declaratur, quia
* hoc prseceptum fidei, secundum ordinariam legem, applicatur hominibus
' per auditum ; teste Paulo ad Roman. 10 : erg6 ut homines possint obligari ad
' credendum, necesse est ut obligentur ad audiendum ; ergo per aliquod praa-
1 ceptum, quod sub nulla consideratione potest dici naturale, sed positivum.
' Et declaratur amplius : nam fideles tenentur nunc explicite credere mys-
1 terium verb. grat.Trinitatis,vel Incarnationis, ex Jure Divino,quia talis fides
' est mine medium necessarium ad salutem (ut suppono) ; hsec autem neces-
' sitas involvit prseceptum divinum, quod non potest esse, nisi absolutum et
' positivum : nam illud prius, quasi condition atum, credendi ea quse reve-
' lantur, non sufficeret ad dictam necessitatem : nam sine violatione hujus
* praecepti hypothetici, ut sic dicam, posset quis nunquam credere explicite*
' Trinitatem, aut Christum ; ergo, ut ad hoc obligentur fideles, necessarium
1 est speciale prseceptum positivum et absolutum. Item in Pastoribus Eccle-
' siae est obligatio prsedicandi et docendi hanc fidem, ex prsecepto Christi ;
1 "Docete omnes gentes, et predicate Evangelium ;" unde est illud Pauli 1.
' ad Corinth. 9. " Necessitas enim mihi incumbit, vse enim mihi est, si non
' evangelizavero :" hoc autem prseceptum positivum etiam est.'
"Incipiendo ab hoc ultimo, majoris claritatis gratia, respondeo, prae-
ceptum illud prsedicandi vel docendi, datum pastoribus Ecclesise, in radice,
id est in institutione, esse positivum ; in se autem et formaliter esse naturale.
Munus enim episcopale seu pastorale est in Ecclesia ex positiva institutione
Christi, ut ut per se constat : supposito autem tali munere, obligatio docendi
aut prcedicandi Evangelium de Jure Divino Naturali est. pertinens ad obli-
gationem justiti83 et fidelitatis, quai intrinsece ex tali munere nascitur; quod
significavit Paulus supra dicens, " Dispensatio mihi credita est." Ad
primum ergo in primis respondeo, cum proportione, non esse necessarium,
ut ex parte audientium prsecedat speciale prceceptum positivum audiendi
doctrinam, vel preedicationem fidei. Nam si sit sermo de hominibus nondum
credentibus in Christum, illi non sunt capaces obligations provenientis
ex prsecepto supernatural!, donee illis sufficienter proponatur fides ; quia
propositio supponit auditum : erg6 antea non potest prsecedere obligatio
audiendi, proveniens ex supernaturali praecepto. Igitur nulla obligatio
praecedit ex parte audientium, sed tantum ex parte prcedicantium. Quae
moraliter reputari potest sufficiens ; quia si ex parte evangelizantium sit
zelus et solicitudo, non deerunt qui de facto audiant ; ad quod magis
trahendi sunt, suavi inductione invitando illos, quam rigorosa obligatione.
Vel certe quando hsec obligatio incipit, magis est ex ratione naturali,
quam ex lege supernaturali. Quia homo naturaliter tenetur veram Dei
cognitionem : veramque felicitatem qucerere: unde quomodocunque, vel per
vocem prsedicationis, vel per famam, vel per proprium discursum, inceperit
GOD'S POWER OF INTERFERENCE WITH NATURAL RULE. 167
tion, is God's power of subtracting from the Natural
Rule. In treating this, 1 shall follow the doctrine,
laid down by the immense majority of Catholic theo-
logians and philosophers ; and I will sufficiently shew
dubitare de suS, lege vel statu, tenebitur eis attendere, qui viam salutis
docere profitentur : ergo respectu infidelium, non est necessarium ponere
hoc speciale praeceptum positivum. Neque enim respectu jam credentium
in Christum ; turn quia illi jam obligantur praecepto charitatis infusse erga
se ipsos, ad propriain salutem spiritualem quaerendam, et consequenter ad
aud.iendum Dei verbum, yuando ad suam salutem fuerit necessarium : neque
enim ex Jure Divino majorem habent obligationem. Et simili rnodo teneri
poterunt ad audiendam doctrinam fidei, quando fuerit necessarium ad cre-
dendum quantum oportet; tune autem obligatio nascitur ex ipsomet praecepto
fidei, de quo dicendum superest.
"Ad alteram ergd partem respondeo, admittendo, in Lege Nova esse
specialem necessitatem fidei explicitse, tarn ad justitiam, quam ad salutem
aeternam consequendam : concedendo item, hanc necessitatem provenire
ex peculiari institutione Christi Domini ; quae positiva sine dubio est, cum
non fuerit simpliciter necessaria. Unde fit etiam consequens, proeceptum
tails fidei, prout est proprium Legis Novas, et Divinum Positivum censeri
posse, saltern ratione institutionis. Positd autem institutione respectu
illius et status Legis Gratise, tale praeceptum merito existimari potest con-
naturale illi. Primo, quia praeceptum recognoscendi Auctorem Legis et
obediendi Illi, est valdd connaturale cuicunque legi ; ad hoc autem necessaria
est expressa, et distincta cognitio Ejus : cum ergo Christus sit Auctor
hujus Legis, valde connaturale est illi prseceptum credendi in Christum.
Cum hoc autem conjunctum est prseceptum cognoscendi Trinitatem, ut mine
suppono ; quia cum Christus sit Secunda Trinitatis Persona, non potest
haberi fides de Illo sufficienter explicita sine fide explicita Trinitatis.
Secundo, quia fides prsecipitur, non solum tanquam speculativa cognitio, sed
etiam tanquam practica et operativa ; ad usum autem sacramentorum
hujus Legis, necessaria est fides explicita Trinitatis, quam oportet in Bap-
tismo profiteri, et fides explicita Christi, Quern oportet in Eucharistia"
recipere et Patri in sacrificium offerre ; ergo supposita institutione maximd
conseutanea perfectioni hujus status, etiam talis fides, et praeceptum ejus,
merito dici potest esse de Jure Divino connatural! gratiae, ut existenti in
tali statu, in quo gratia tarn perfecto modo communicatur.
" Atque hinc facile respondetur ad secundam partem, de praecepto spei :
fatemur enim, usum spei multo perfectiorem postulari in lege Evangelii,
quam antea ; turn quoad modum sperandi gloriam, turn quoad multa
media supernaturalia. Nunc enim sperare tenemur remissionem peccatorum
per Baptismum, et per Absolutionem sacerdotis ; et augmentum justitiae per
alia sacramenta : turn etiam quoad modum sperandi per Christum, et pe*
speciales promissiones per Ipsum factas. Non est autem necesse, ut
propter has et similes perfectiones data fuerint in hac lege specialia
prcecepta positiva circa materiam spei, quia tota haec perfectio et obligatio
ad illam ex naturd rei xequitur, supposita perfectione fidei circa Christum,
et redemptionem Ejus, et supposita tali sacrameutorum institutione. Sicut
etiam, suppositd fide Incarnationis et institutione Eucharistice ac fide ejus,
nascitur in hdc Lege obligatio adorandi cultu latrice Christum, tam in Se,
quam in Eucharistid : et iiihilominus ilia obligatio non oritur ex Prcecepto
Positivo Divino, sed ex Jure Divino naturali, et connaturali talibus mys-
teriis : ita ergo de spe dicendum est." — SUAREZ De Legibus, lib. 10, c. 2,
n. 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.
168 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
that the fact is so, by the quotations which I hope to
subjoin.
It is most manifest then, from the principles of
Section III., that this subtraction can never be in the
way of dispensation. God, having created free persons,
cannot (as we have seen) even 4 de potentia absoluta'
abstain from adding the sanction of His command, to
the intrinsic obligation of the Natural Rule. Much
less therefore, can He remove this latter obligation
itself; much less can He remove by His will that in-
trinsic character of evil, which inhered in this or that
act independently of His will altogether.
But yet that in some sense God can subtract from
this Natural Rule, is very certain. Scripture records,
that He commanded Abraham to slay Isaac, and
the Israelites to spoil the Egyptians. And even if
Scripture were silent, it does seem indeed a monstrous
statement, that the Lord of life cannot impart a com-
mission to take away life ; or that the Lord of the
whole earth cannot transfer property from one man to
another.
Now this very statement of the difficulty, precisely
implies the solution. Reason declares, that it is a
sinful act to take away my fellow-man's life, without
any necessity in the way of self-defence, and at the
same time without express authority. True: but if
God commissions me to take away life, I no longer
do so without express authority; by the very fact of
giving me that commission, He totally changes the
case on which reason has to pronounce. In like man-
ner, reason pronounces that it is sinful, under ordinary
circumstances, to keep back a jewel from its rightful
proprietor. But God is at last the Supreme Proprietor
of all the universe ; and if He transfers the property in
this jewel from my friend to myself, at once and ipso
facto I become its rightful proprietor.
Under such circumstances as these then, there
arises what theologians call a 'mutatio materise;' a
change of that object-master, whereon a moral judg-
ment has to be formed. By means of that * mutatio
GOD'S POWER OF INTERFERENCE WITtt NATURAL RULE. 1G9
materise,' a certain external act, which was intrinsecally
wrong, ceases to be so and becomes lawful. Then the
Command of God supervening is a kind of positive Com-
mand (see n. 25); and I owe to it obedience, on the
same principle which obliges me to obey any other
Positive Precept, imposed by my Holy Creator.
In the above cases, the c mutatio materise' is wrought
by God, not as Legislator, but as Supreme Proprietor
and Lord of the Universe. It is often said by theo-
logians, that such ' mutationes materiaa,' when they take
place, are always wrought by Him in that capacity;
that they are always wrought by Him as Supreme
Lord, and never as Legislator. But with very great
deference to their authority, I venture on this single
particular to question their statements. In order the
better to explain the kind of instance to which I allude,
I will begin with an illustration of a purely human kind ;
a case, where there is no interference of God whatever.
I am living at home, with my wife and family, quite
free from any laborious occupation. Under these cir-
cumstances, certain acts of kindness, towards those thus
closely connected, are intrinsecally of actual obligation ;
nay, in many easily supposable cases, are obligatory
under mortal sin. But war breaks out and my country
requires my services ; a command is issued by my
sovereign, requiring me to join the army; and I obey
that command. Here is a real ' mutatio materiae.'
Those services to my wife and children, which were
before obligatory, cease altogether from being so ; my
sovereign's just command has superseded them.
Now if my temporal superior has thus the power
to subtract duties from the Natural Rule, how far
more must God possess that power ! A real command
may reach me, not from my earthly sovereign but
from God, requiring me to give such service as I ani
capable of giving, towards some holy enterprise in pro-
gress. In such a case God works a real c mutatio
materise;' and in consequence of His command, certain
duties, which were of intrinsic and independent obliga-
tion, cease from being so. Yet surely He works this
170 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
4 mutatio materise,' not as Lord of the Universe, but as
Legislator ; i. e. as being that Holy Creator, who has
a rightful authority to command. On this principle
He might (as Suarez observes) forbid me, e.g. during
some given period, from occupying any time in direct
meditation on His attributes, or in special and explicit
prayer. He might forbid this directly; or He might
forbid it indirectly, by strictly commanding a different
mode of employing each successive moment. You will
object, that unless I devote time to special and explicit
prayer, I have no moral power to avoid mortal sin.
True, ' in praesenti providentia ; ' but of course it would
be implied in God's giving such a command, that He
would so far change His Providence, as that He would
furnish me with amply sufficient grace, without my
giving myself to such pious practices.
82. It is abundantly evident then, that through this
' mutatio materise' God has full power to subtract, from
the Natural Rule,/ar the greater number of its external
precepts.* Such subtraction, I need not say, has been
most rare and exceptional in the history of the world ;
but God has the full power to exercise this prerogative,
as His Infinite Wisdom may dictate. One important
remark however must here be made, in final explana-
tion. It is impossible that we can have any knowledge
of such Divine subtraction, except by means of direct
Revelation ; whether mediate or immediate. Wherever
no such revelation reaches us, there is no ' mutatio
materisB ;' in all such cases therefore — in all cases
where we receive no direct revelation to the contrary
— Reason itself (as we have already seen) declares, that
God adds the sanction of His Command to the intrinsic
obligation of the Natural Rule.
The assemblage of such Commands may be called
the c mutable' part of the Natural Law. They belong
to the Natural Law ; for they are Divine Precepts, com-
manding that which, in itself and apart from such Com-
mand, is of independent obligation. And they make
* What is meant here by ' external ' will be explained clearly in the
following number.
GOD'S POWER OF INTERFERENCE WITH NATURAL RULE. 171
up the mutable part of that Law; because (as was sup-
posed) they are those Precepts, which admit of being
subtracted by God from the Natural Law through
' mutatio materiae,' as above explained.
Theologians here proceed to treat, on these prin-
ciples, the various instances found in Scripture of God's
subtraction from the Natural Law. The appropriate
place however for this question, is our theological
course; and as there is no reason of convenience (but
rather the contrary) for anticipating its treatment, I
postpone it for the present. Here I will only observe,
that objections are brought from Scripture, by two
most opposite parties, for two most opposite purposes.
They are brought by certain Protestants, who reve-
rence the authority of Scripture, for the purpose of
proving that morality is not independent; and they are
brought by certain infidels, who hold that morality is
independent, for the purpose of disparaging the Bible.
By the help of the principles which we have now con-
sidered, we are able to meet both classes of opposition
with the most perfect confidence and security. We
are able at once to hold, in the fullest extent, that
morality is independent ; — and also to hold, in the
fullest extent, the perfect consistency of this doctrine
with the statements of Scripture.
83. But as there is a mutable part of the Natural
Law, so also there is an mmutable: and we should
fall into the most frightful misconceptions, if we did
not carefully master this truth. We need not attempt
(what perhaps is impossible) to make an exhaustive
catalogue, of those Precepts which cannot be sub-
tracted : the following will suffice. The first two par-
ticulars in the enumeration, are of an importance which
it is impossible to exaggerate.
(1.) Virtuous ends of action must ever and in all cir-
cumstances remain what they are. An external precept
may be reversed ; but as regards the movement of our
will, all that God can possibly call on us to do, is to act
towards one virtuous end rather than towards another.
Let us illustrate this, in the often-repeated instance of
my friend's jewel. Put the ordinary case, that God
172 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
does not specially interfere ; I am under the obligation
of restoring my friend his jewel, because of the vir-
tuousness inherent in Justice. But now we will sup-
pose that God does specially interfere, and commands
me to retain it. What then results? Does He com-
mand me to regard, as the motive of such retention, any
supposed virtuousness inherent in injustice ? A mon-
strous supposition indeed ! It was my duty to restore
it because of the virtuousness inherent in Justice; it
is my duty to retain it, because of the virtuousness
inherent in Obedience to my Holy Creator.
It must ever then, and in all circumstances, remain
true, that we are morally better, holier, more accept-
able to God, in proportion as our will adheres, with
greater firmness and efficacity, to those ends of action
enumerated in the last Section. God is not free, by
means of any possible interference, to touch or affect
in any way this essential and necessary truth. Those
virtuous ends, as we have seen, are such as the follow-
ing : viz. Justice, Veracity, Benevolence, Love of God,
Obedience to God, Reverence for God, Humility, For-
givingness, Purity. God, in virtue of His. Sanctity,
is under the glorious inability of proposing any ends
of action at variance with these.
(2.) 'Negative' precepts, which regard 'internal'
acts, are absolutely immutable. Here there are two
terms requiring explanation ; c negative ' precepts and
6 internal ' acts.
6 Affirmative ' precepts command the performance
of a duty ; ( negative ' precepts forbid the commission
of a sin. Negative precepts therefore bind, as theo-
logians say, ' semper et pro semper ; ' for at every
moment we are forbidden to commit any sin : but
nothing like this is true in regard to ' affirmative ' pre-
cepts. It is an affirmative precept, that we love God;
i. e. that we elicit certain acts of love to Him: it is a
negative precept that we prefer no creature to Him;
still more that we do not hate Him. We are not
always bound to be eliciting acts of love to Him ; but
we are always bound, to abstain from anything con-
trary to that Love which is His due : from preferring,
GOD'S POWER OF INTERFERENCE WITH NATURAL RULE. 173
e.g. to Him any creature whatever. The negative
precept binds at every instant of our waking lives ;
the affirmative precept binds only on certain fixed
and definite occasions.
Now it is very clear, how much more conceivable
it is, that affirmative precepts be subtracted from the
Natural Law than negative. God may command us
not to meditate on His attributes for a certain given
period ; but He c&unot command us to hold those
Attributes in contempt or hatred. He may command
us to elicit no formal acts of love to our brethren ; but
He cannot command us to elicit formal acts of hatred
in their regard. We have shewn in n. 81, that the
former class of commands are possible, at least ' de
potentia absoluta ;' that He can prohibit us from direct
acts of love, to Himself or to our brethren. On the
other hand it is evident, as soon as stated, that the
latter class of commands are absolutely impossible;
that under no possible circumstances can it be lawful
to despise God or to hate our brethren.
Next as to * internal ' acts. In our theological
course we shall have to enter more at length on the
force of this term : here it will suffice to say, that ' in-
ternal ' acts are those consummated in the will itself;
* external' are free acts consummated externally to the
will. That I restore my friend his jewel, this is an
'external' act; that I resolve on so doing, this is an
' internal.'
Now it is quite plain, from what has been said, that
as regards external acts, even negative precepts may
be subtracted. It is a negative precept of the Natural
Law, that I shall not retain a jewel, deposited with me
by a friend, when that friend requires and seeks it for
his own reasonable wants. And yet God has the full
power of reversing this precept, by ' mutatio materise.'
It is a negative precept of the Natural Law, that we
shall not treat our children harshly ; and yet God com-
manded Abraham actually to slay his son.
You will object perhaps, that if the external act
may be reversed in character, so also may be the in-
174 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
ternal ; if my retaining the jewel, e.g. may become
lawful, so also may my resolving to retain it. By con-
sidering this objection, we shall throw considerable light
on the statement above made. Put again the ordinary
case, that God does not specially interfere : what is that
internal act, concerning the jewel, which is strictly
forbidden by the Natural Law? This: 4I resolve to
' retain unjustly the deposited jewel, because of the
' personal or other advantage which I shall derive from
4 its retention.' But this internal act can never be
made lawful by any ' mutatio materise ' imaginable.
When God commands me to retain the jewel, the
internal act which he requires me to elicit is totally
different; viz. this: CI resolve to retain that jewel,
' which has now become mine, because of the virtuous-
4 ness inherent in Obedience to God's Command.' You
see, the external act may be reversed in character by a
Holy God; from unlawful it may become even obliga-
tory: but no such reversal of character can possibly
take place, in regard to that internal act, which is
consummated in the will itself.
(3.) The following statement is not to be found (so
far as I know) explicitly made by theologians ; yet it
is fully implied, in their whole doctrine concerning God's
Providence. God cannot 4 de potentia absoluta ' impose
a Precept, which would place its recipients in circum-
stances of moral inability to avoid mortal sin. What is
precisely understood by moral inability, is to be ex-
plained in our fourth Chapter ; but you have already,
no doubt, a sufficient general knowledge of its meaning.
And as an instance of what I intend by my statement,
take the following. Suppose I had been familiar with
deeds of cruelty; and suppose God commanded me to
kill, with every circumstance of protracted torture, a
man, who had inflicted on me some deadly injury. It is
plain that, with no more than ordinary grace, I should,
in fulfilling such a command, be morally unable to
avoid mortal sin under the head of vindictiveness. Even
then if on other grounds it were possible for God to give
such a command, He would at least be necessitated by
GOD'S POWER OF INTERFERENCE WITH NATURAL RULE. 175
His Sanctity to give me most abundant help, that I
might have full power of avoiding mortal sin.
(4.) Certain more enormous sins against the sixth
commandment must always remain such ; no c mutatio
materia3 ' can possibly affect their intrinsic pravity.
(5.) It is agreed by all theologians without excep-
tion, that a lie must ever remain intrinsecally evil, and
that its prohibition can in no possible way be subtracted
from the Natural Rule. As this statement is but very
indirectly connected with our general subject, and as
its elucidation would require considerable space, — let it
suffice thus to enunciate this universally received prin-
ciple.
84. The doctrines, expressed in this Section, follow
most obviously from those of Section III. Having there-
fore in Sect. IV. shewn at such great length the amount
of theological authority for those earlier doctrines, it
will not be necessary to give more than a sample, in
regard to this their further development.
From Suarez however, I will take a chapter almost
entire; because he not only states his own judgment,
but gives also a very clear account of the other opinions,
which have been maintained in the Church : —
" UTRUM DEUS DISPENSARE POSSIT IN LEGE NATURALI ETIAM
DE ABSOLUT A POTE STATE.
" Ratio dubitandi est, quia omnis legislator potest in sua lege
dispensare ; quod, in humano legislatore, tarn generaliter et sine
exceptione verum habet, ut etiam si absque causa dispensat, fac-
tum teneat ; ergo multo magis in Deo : ergo cum Ipse sit Auctor
Naturalis Legis, poterit in ea dispensare.. Confirmatur, quia ita
fecisse videtur, dispensando cum Abrahamo, in quinto pracepto
Decalogi, Genes. 22 ; et cum Osea in sexto, quando illi praecipit
accipere ; mulierem fbrnicariam, Osea3 2 ; et cum filiis Israel in
septimo, quando ex Dei facilitate spoliaverunt JEgyptios, Exod. 12.
" Distinguimus tres ordines praBceptorum naturalium. Quae-
dam sunt universalissima principia, ut'malum, faciendum non est/
et ( bonum est prosequendum : ' quaedam vero sunt conclusiones
immediate, et omnino intrinsece conjunctse dictis principiis; ut
prsecepta Decalogi : in tertio ordine sunt alia prsecepta, quae mult6
magis sunt reniota a primis principiis, imo et ab ipsis Decalogi
prseceptis ; de quibus postea exempla ponemus. De primis non
176 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
est controversia inter auctores : nam certum est, in ea non cadere
dispensationem, respectu hominis libere et moraliter operantis.
Nam si Deus facial ut homo careat omni operatione morally libe-
rum usum rationis et voluntatis impediendo, excusaretur homo
ab omni Lege Natural!, quia nee bene, nee male moraliter operari
posset: tamen ilia non esset dispensatio in Lege Naturse, sed esset
impedire subjectum ne esset capax obligationis illius ; sicut nunc
inf'ans non obligatur proprie Lege Naturali. At vero si homo
relinquitur capax 1 iberse operation! s,absol'vi non potest ab omnibus
illis principiis legis naturse: quia positd qudcumque dispensation,
necesse est ut ilia principia sint regula honeste operandi : vel
enim dispensatio facit operationem vel carentiam ejus licitam, vel
non facit : si non facit, nulla est dispensatio ; si vero facit, necesse
est ut ratio judicet, hie et nunc operationem esse licitam : ergo
dispensatio non potest cadere in illud principium, 'bonum est prose-
quendum: ' quod amplius ex dicendis constabit Controversia ergo
est de aliis duobus ordinibus prseceptorum ; et prsesertirn tractatur
a doctoribus de secundo : nam de tertio pauca dicunt, et ideo in
fine breviter illam expediemus.
" Est ergo prima sententia, generaliter affirmans posse Deum
dispensare in omnibus Prseceptis Decalogi. Quse consequenter
ait, non solum posse Deum dispensare, sed etiam abrogare totam
illam Legem, auferendo omnino ejus obligationem, vel prohibitio-
nem. Quo facto, inquit hsec opinio futura fuisse licita omnia,
qua Lex Naturae prohibet, quantumvis mala nunc esse videantur.
Ex quo tandem concludit, non solum posse Deum hsec non pro-
hibere, sed etiam pracipere ut fiant : quia si mala non sunt sed
licita, cur non poterit ilia prsecipere ? Hsec fuit sententia Ocham
in 2, q, 19, ad. 3, dubium ; quern sequitur Petrus de Aliaco in
1., diet. 7, et Andr. de Castr. Novo in 1, d. 48, qusest. 1,
Artie. 1, et inclinat Gerson. Alphabet. 61, lit. E. & F. Almain
etiam 3, Moral, capit. 15, ut probabilem tractat hanc opinionem :
postea vero illam rejicit. Fundantur prsecipue, quia omnia, quse
cadunt sub Legem Naturae, non sunt mala, nisi quia prohibentur a
Deo ; et Ipse libere ipsa prohibet, cum sit Supremus Dominus et
Gubernator. Item quia oppositum non implicat contradictionem :
ablata enim prohibitione, reliqua omnia facile consequuntur.
"Haec vero sententia, tanquam falsa et absurda, a reliquis
theologis rejicitur: et a priori improbanda est ex dictis supra
cap. 6. ubi ostendimus Legem Naturalem (licet, ut est proprie Lex
Divina, Prsecepta et Prohibitionem Dei includat, nihilomimis) sup-
ponere in su& materia intrinsecam honestatem vel malitiam, ab ed
prorsus inseparabilem : et pra3terea ibi ostendimus, supposita
Divina Providentia, non posse Deum non prohibere mala ilia, quse
ratio naturalis ostendit esse mala. Sed licet fingamus, Prohibitio-
nem additam per Voluntatem Dei posse auferri, nihilorninus
GOD'S POWER OF INTERFERENCE WITH NATURAL RULE. 177
prorsus repugnat, ad id, quod per se et intrinsece malum est,
desinere esse malum ; quia rei natura non potest mutari : unde
non potest talis actus libere fieri, quin malum sit et dissonum
natures rationali: ut ex Aristot. et aliis ibi ostendimus. Etvidetur
per se notum : qui enim fieri potest, ut odium Dei, vel mendacium,
libere facta, non sint prava? Fundamentum ergb hujus senten-
tice, scilicet) quod omnis malitia humanorum actuum proveniat
ex Prohibitione extrinsecd, omninb falsum est. Ideoque ne in
aequivoco laboremus, separanda est quaestio de Prohibitione ex-
trinsecd Dei, an possit ab Ipso non fieri, vel respectu omnium, vel
respectu alicujus. Nam de hac Prohibitione esse potest res magls
dubia, ut in dicto cap. 6. dixi; probabilius tamen esse ostendi,
esse a Divind Providentid inseparabilem : ilia vero quaestione
omissa, hie absolute inquirimus, an fieri possit & Deo, ut actiones
illae, qua3 per legem Decalogi prohibentur, malae non sint ullo
modo ; it& ut nee per legem ostensivam naturalis rationis vetentur,
ut malae : et in hoc sensu dicimus, esse falsam sententiam Ochami
et aliorum.
" Unde a fortiori constat, multo majus absurdum esse dicere,
posse Deum homini praecipere, ut Ipsummet Deum odio habeat ;
quod plane sequitur ex ilia sententia. Nam si potest ilium actum
non prohibere, et ablala Prohibitione non est malus; — ergo potest
ilium praecipere. Consequens autem esse absurdum patet; quia
non potest Deus facere, ut Ipsemet sit odio dignus ; nam repugnat
ejus Bonitati: neque etiam potest facere, ut sit rectum et ordi-
natum, habere odio rem amore dignam. Item esset ibi qtiaedam
contradictio : nam obedire Deo, est quidam virtualis amor Ejus,
et obligatio ad obediendum prsesertim riascitur ex amore : ergo
repugnat obligari ex Prcecepto ad Ipsummet Deum odio habendum.
Idem argumentum fieri potest de inendacio : nam si Deus illud
posset praecipere, etiam posset Ipse mendacium dicere ; quod ei*ro-
neum est : sic enim tota certitudo fidei periret. Atque haec etiam
ratio probat de dispensatione : nam si potest Deus dispensare in
omnibus, ergo in mendacio ; non tantum officioso, sed etiam perni-
cioso, et in quacumque materia : multo ergo magis poterit (ut ita
dicam) Secum Ipse Dispensare, vel potius sine dispensatione men-
tiri : quia respectu Illius nulla est prohibitio, et alias dicitur
actum secundum se malum non esse.
" Secunda sententia est Scoti in 3 distinction. 37 quaestion.
unica, quern ibi sequitur Gabriel quaestione prima articulo secundo,
et refert etiam ibidem Almain. Distinguitque inter praecepta
primaa et secundse tabulae. Primae tabulae dicuntur, tria Prae-
cepta Decalogi, quae versantur circa Deum : de quibus sentit, duo
prima, quae negativa sunt, esse indispensabilia ; tertium autem,
quatenus involvit circumstantiam Sabbati, et dispensabile et
abrogabile fuisse (quod est manifestum apud omnes, quia quoad
178 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
id non fuit Naturale, sed Positivum) quatenus vero absolute con-
tinet affirmativum praeceptum cultus divini, dubitat an dispensabile
sit; et de totii hac parte hujus opinionis infra dicam. Praecepta
secundae tabulae, dicuntur reliqua septem ; et in universum omnia,
quae circa proocimbs vel creaturas versantur ; de quibus omnibus
sentit Scotus dispensabilia esse
" Tertia opinio est Durandi in 1 distinct. 47 quaestione quarta,
et Majoris in 2 dist. 37 qusest. 10, qui distinguunt inter
prsecepta negativa et affirmativa ; quamvis non omnino inter se
conveniant. Nam Major dicit, negativa esse indispensabilia,
excepto quinto praecepto, ( Non occides.' Durand. vero eandem
regulam constituens de exceptione, dixit, si verbum, ' Non occides'
generaliter sumatur pro quacumque hominis occisione, sic dispen-
sabile esse : si vero sumatur pro occisione hominis, prout earn
prohibet ratio naturalis, sic etiam illud indispensabile esse. Sed
profecto distinctio non erat necessaria; quia priori modo occisio
non cadit sub Prohibitione Legis Naturae, quia dicit quid com-
mune, abstrahens ab occisione justa et injusta ; de qua constat,
ut sic, non prohiberi Lege Nature. Igitur, loquendo proprie de
Quinto Praecepto, sine causa fit exceptio, ut patebit; et eodem modo
possent isti auctores excipere Septimum Praeceptum, vel in illo dis-
tinguere ; quia etiam acceptio rei alienae potest interdum juste fieri.
" De affirmativis autem praeceptis, Major absolute dicit, omnia
esse dispensabilia. Et probat primo, quia potest Deus non con-
currere cum homine ad quemcumque actum prseceptum. Sed
hoc impertinens est; quia hoc non est dispensare, sed tollere
potestatem operandi. Quis enim dicat, unum hominem dispensare
cum alio ne audiat missam, violenter ilium detinendo, aut ita
graviter vulnerando ut illam audire non possit ? Probat deinde,
quia pro quocumque tempore signato potest Deus prsebere facul-
tatem non exercendi actum prseceptum, vel etiam prosdpere facere
aliud; ergo hoc modo poterit pro toto tempore vitas dispensare.
Sed neque hoc urget: si consideremus, prceceptum affirmativum
non obligare pro semper; et stando in pura Lege Naturae, non
habere aliud tempus pro quo determinate obliget, nisi illud, quod
necessaria occasio vel opportunitas definierit. Unde, quamvis
contingat totum vitce tempus transigi sine tali occasione vel oppor-
tunitate, et ideo numquam occurrere obligationem Prcecepti, non
proptere^i interveniat dispensatio; nam hoc etiam naturaliter et
sine miraculo contingere potest. Ratio ergo ilia ad summum
probat, posse Deum facere, ut, in singulis temporibus, Prsecepti
necessitas non occurrat; vel quia urget aliud Prceceptum magis,
vel quia rerum circumstantiae mutantur. Quod si Major velit,
stantibus eisdem circumstantiis cum quibus obligat Naturale Pr&cep-
tum, posse Deum dare licentiam ne impleatur, — illud non probat,
sed assumit tantum.
GOD'S POWER OF INTERFERENCE WITH NATURAL RULE. 179
" Dnrandus autem distinguit inter prceceptum prirnce ; et
secundce tabulcz, et prius dicit esse indispensabile, postering autem
dispensari posse. Probat h&c ratione, quia omnis materia, k qua
potest auferri ratio debiti, dispensabilis est; ilia vero quse habet
debitum inseparable, est indispensabilis : sed materia illorum
prseceptorum ita se habet : ergo. Minorem probat hac analogia :
quia dependentia k Deo est inseparabilis ab nomine ; dependentia
vero unius hominis ab alio est separabilis & quocumque : sic ergo
a cultu Dei est inseparabile debitum ; ab honore autem parentum
feparari potest : unde non potest Deus facere quin illi credendum
sit, et reverentia exhibenda : potest autem facere, ne parentes
honorentur. Sed quoad neutram partem videtur mihi ratio
efficax, nee distinctio constans. Primum probo, quia longe aliud
est de dependenti& & Deo in esse ; hrec enim essentialis est, quia
sine ill& non potest homo subsistere: sine actione autem morali
ergo, Deum potest existere ; imo et bene operari circk alia objecta.
Item quamvis potuerit Deus facere, ut Petrus v. g. non habuerit
esse a suis parentibus, tamen hoc non esset dispensare in Prsecepto
de honorandis parentibus : supposito autem quod ab illis habuit
esse, jam intervenit dependentia, k qua inseparabile est debitum
honorandi parentes; sicut & dependentia & Deo inseparabile est
debitum colendi Ipsum. Et hinc patet secunda pars; nam si sit
sermo de debito, seque inseparabile est sumptum cum proportione,
seu supposita emanatione k tali causa : si vero sit sermo de actibus,
quibus solvitur hoc debitum, — sicut potest Deus facere, ut homo
sine peccato nunquam in tot£ vita exerceat actum honoris circa
parentes, ita potest etiam facere, ut numquam exerceat actum
cultus divini ; ergo vel neutra est dispensatio, vel in utroque
Praecepto dispensari potest.
" Est igitur quarta opinio, quse absolute et simpliciter docet,
hac pracepta Decalogi esse indispensabilia etiam per potentiam
Dei absolutam. Tenet D. Th. q. 100, Artie. 8, et ibi Cajetan. et
alii ; Sotus lib. 2, de just. q. 3, Articul. 8 ; Victor, relect. de
homicid; Viguer. in Instit. Theolog. cap. 15, § 1, versu 7; Vin-
cent, in Speculo Moral, lib. 1, par. 2, distinct. 6 ; Altisiodor. in
Summa, lib. 3, tract 7, cap. 1, qu. 5; Richard, in 3, distinct. 37,
articul. 1, question. 5, et ibi Paludan. Bassolis, et alii; Abulen.
in 20 caput Exodi, q. 35, et Molin. torn. 6, tractat. 5, disputat.
57, num. 6. Fundamentum D. Thomse est, quia ea qua? con-
tinent intrinsecam rationem justitise et debiti, indispensabilia sunt ;
sed hujusmodi sunt prsecepta Decalogi ; ergo. Major patet, quia
implicat contradictionem, esse debitum et non esse debitum ;
quod autem dispensatur, eo ipso fit indebitum; si autem habet
debitum inseparabile, necessario illud retinet ; ergo repugnat dis-
pensare quod hujusmodi est. Et ideo ait Divus Thomas, nee
Deum dispensare posse, quia non potest agere contra Suam Jus-
1 80 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
titiam; quod tamen ageret, si licentiam daret f'aciendi id, quod
per se et intrinsece injustum est.
" Hanc vero rationem impugnant auctores aliarum opi-
nionum, quia vel petit principium, vel seque procedit in omni
prsecepto et dispensatione ejus. Probatur, quia si sit sensus,
stante et raanente debito, non posse dispensationem habere locum,
hoc in omni lege locum habet ; quia repugnat dispensare, ut
manente debito legis liceat agere contra legem ; nam ratio dispen-
sationis consistit in hoc, ut auferat debitum legis, et ideo in illis
terminis contradictio involvitur : vel est sensus, hoc debitum non
posse auferri in prseceptis naturalibus ; et hoc probandum est ; cum
hoc ergo assumitur, principium petitur.
" Respondetur, duplex esse debitum. Aliud procedens ab ipsfi
lege, tanquam efFectus ejus; et de hoc procedit aperte objectio:
tamen Divus Thomas in dicta ratione non loquitur de hoc debito.
Aliud est debitum, proveniens ex intrinseca proportione inter
objectum et actum comparatum ad rectam rationem, seu naturam
rationalem ; et de hoc debito procedit ratio Div. Thomse. Nam (ut
sa3pe dictum est) Lex Naturalis prohibet ea, quse secundum se mala
sunt, quatenus talia sunt; et ideo supponit in ipsis objectis seu
actions intrinsecum debitum, ut non amentur seu non fiant ; et e
contrario praBcipit bona, quatenus intrinsecam connexionem et
necessitatem habent cum natura rationali. Hoc autem debitum
inseparabile est, non quia non sit dispensabile (sic enim peteretur
principium), sed quia intrinsece supponitur in ipsis rebus, ante
omnem legem extrinsecam ; et ideo, stantibus eisdem rebus auferri
non potest, quia non pendet ex extrinseca voluntate, neque est res
aliqua distincta, sed quasi modus omnino intrinsecus, seu quasi
relatio, quse impediri non potest, posito fundamento et termino:
et hanc rationem confirmant, quse circa alias opiniones dicta
sunt, et quse in cap. 6, diximus.
"H&c igitur sententia, formaliter et proprie loquendo, vera
est. Quia vero negare non possumus, Deum aliquando efficere,
ut actus illi materiales liceant, qui alias, non interveniente Deo
Ipso et Ejus Potestate, licite fieri non possint, ideo (ut intelli-
gatur quomodo hoc fiat, et cur ilia non sit, nee appelletur,
dispensatio,) oportet distinguere in Deo varias ration es. Est enim
Supremus Legislator; unde habet, ut possit nova et varia prse-
cepta imponere : est etiain Supremus Dominus, quia potest dominia
mutare vel concedere : est item Supremus Judex, Qui potest
ptmire, vel unicuique reddere quod ei debetur. Dispensatio ergo
proprie pertinet ad Deum sub primd considerations ; quia ejus-
dem potestatis est, tollere et condere legem : itaque ut intelligatur
Deus dispensare, oportet ut utendo sold ilia jurisdictione, et non
adjungendo potestatem dominativam per quam res ipsas immutet,
licere faciat, quod antea non licebat, Nam si per Dominium Suum
GOD'S TOWER OF INTERFERENCE WITH NATURAL RULE. 181
mutet humanum [officium?], hoc non erit dispensare, sed tollere
materiam Lcgis ; ut ex snperioribus constat. Quoties ergo Deus
f'acit licituin actum, qui Jure Naturae videbatur prokibitus, ntm-
(jiiam id facit ut purus Legislator, sed utendo alia potestate : et
ideo non dispensat.
"Hoc videre licet in exemplis positis. Quando enim Deus
pra-cepit Abrahse interficere filium, id fecit tanquam Dominus
vitee et mortis : si enim Deus Ipse per Seipsum voluisset inter-
ficere Isaac, — non indiguisset dispensatione, sed ex Suo Dominio
id facere posset; eodem ergo modo potuit uti Abrahamo ut in-
strumento : et Quintum Prseceptum non prohibet esse instrumentum
Dei in occisione, si Ipse prseceperit. Idem sent it Divus Thomas
de facto Osese in assumenda muliere fornicaria; ut patet dicto
art 8, ad 4, et 2, 2, qusest. 154. Potest enim Deus transferre in
virum dorninium mulieris sine consensu ejus, et ita efficere vincu-
lum inter illos, ratione cujus ilia copula jam fornicaria non sit.
Sed licet hoc sit verum de potentia absoluta, locus Osese non cogit
ad hanc interpretatiouem : jussit enim Deus assumere earn, quse
prius fornicaria fuerat, non solum ad usum, sed etiam ad matrimo-
nium et in conjugem ; ut Hieronym. Theodor. et alii interpretan-
tur, et Irenseus lib. 4, contra Hsereses, cap. 37, et August. 22,
contra Faust, cap. 80 et 85, et lib. contra Secundinum Munich,
cap. 21. Simili modo non dispensavit cum Hebraeis quando
jEgyptiorum spolia illis concessit, sed vel tanquam Supremus
Dominus donavit, vel saltern tanquam Supremus Judex reddidit
eis mercedem laborum suorum ; ut dicitur Sapient, 10. Ita
ergo in similibus omnibus intelligendum est ; neque potest aliter
fieri, propter rationem adductam. Idemque applicari potest
ad prcecepta affirmativa; in quibus est res facilis, quia non
obligant pro semper, sed stante opportunitate, quse circa tale
objectum inducat necessitatem. Potest autem Deus aut objec-
tum mutare, cedendo Juri Suo vel hominum jura immutando,
aut etiam necessitatem potest auferre, addendo novas circum-
stantias, quae illam impediant: et nihilominus Praeceptum in-
tegrum manet, ut ex se semper obliget pro debitd opportunitate;
quod est sign urn, non fuisse factam dispensationem.
"Unde colligit D. Thomas in dicta solut. ad 3, hunc mo-
dum immutationis non solum Deo, sed etiam hoinini, interdum
esse possibilem. In negativis quidem praeceptis, quando materia
illorum cadit sub dominio humano, et per homines immutari
potest, quomodo nos suprk explicuimus legem praescriptionis : in
affirmativis autem, quando per homines possunt immutari circum-
stantiae, quse inducebant necessitatem operandi, ve; quandb p~sswit
homines gravius prceceptum vnponere : ut si ret prcedpiat filio non
succurrere parenti extreme indigenti, ut subveniat reipt'blicce peri-
clitanti. Deus autem ob Singularem Excellentiam potest, quando
182 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
vult, uti absoluta Potestate et Dominio. Unde etiam intelligitur
ratio, ob quam non in omnibus Prseceptis negativis potest talis
mutatio fieri per homines ex parte materise, in quibus potest fieri
a Deo ; ut v. g. in praecepto non fornicandi : quia nimirum non habet
homo illam potestatem in personam foeminse, quam habet Deus, ut
possit alteri tradere in suam prout voluerit ; et ideo etiam potuerunt
leges humanse per usucapionem mutare dominia rerum, non tamen
ita potuerunt mutare dominia uxorum. Et ita, stante lege
humana, potest desinere esse furtum quod antea fuisset; non tamen
potest desinere esse adulterium, quod per se tale existit.
" Praeterea ex his obiter intelligitur, quotiescumque ma-
teria Praecepti talis fuerit, ut honestas vel turpitudo ejus non
pendeat ex Dominio Divino, tune non solum indispensabile esse
tale Prseceptum, sed etiam ita immutabile, ut non possit ulld ratione
licitum fieri id quod prohibet ; solum enim in negativis Prce-
cepti-s hoc proprti invenitur. Hujusmodi est primum praeceptum
Decalogi, quatenus negativum est, et prohibet habere vel colere
plures Deos : hoc enim nullo modo potest immutari ; quia est
contra rationem Ultimi Finis, et Excellentiam Dei, ac Unitatem
Ejus, quam Ipse mutare non potest. Nee enim potest vel alium
Deurn constituere, vel aliquid facere quod sit asquali honore
dignum ; mutatio ergo talis praacepti seu materise ejus, non cadit
sub Divinum Dominium. Idem estde Secundo Prsecepto Decalogi :
turn quia involvit prohibitionem mendacii, quod nulla ratione
honestari potest, si mendacium manet ; turn maxime, quia prohibet
facere Deum Auctorem mendacii, quod etiam includit irreveren-
tiam Dei, adeo repugnantem Divinae Auctoritati, ut non possit in
hoc cedere Juri Suo (ut sic dicam). Atque in hoc sensu verum
est quod intendebat Scotus, haec aliis esse immutabiliora.
" De tertio autem, cum sit affirmativum, certum est posse
a Deo fieri, ut ssepe non obliget, quando alias secundum com-
munem cursum rerum obligaret. An vero possit homini licen-
tiam dare, ut per totum vitae tempus, et, quod dimcilius est, per
totam aeternitatem, nullum bonum motum circa Ipsum exerceat,
neque cultum aliquem proximum et directum exhibeat, non im-
merito dubitavit Scot. Nonnulli vero ex Thomistis censent hoc
non posse fieri, nee per propriam dispensationem, neque etiam
per rnutationem materiae. Si tamen consideremus absolutam ac
nudam potentiam, non apparet in hoc implicatio contradictionis :
quia inde non sequitur, non posse talem hominem bonos actus
morales circa objecta creata exercere; quia eorum bonitas non
pendet ex praBvio actu formali circa ultimum finem, et natura su^
tendunt in Ipsum, et ita mediate et remote vel quasi materialiter,
possunt dici continere cultum Dei. At vero considerando Di-
vinam Potentiam, ut conjunctam Infinite Sapientias et Bonitati
Dei, atque adeo loquendo moraliter (ut sic dicam), credibilius
GOD'S POWER OF INTERFERENCE WITH NATURAL RULE. 183
est, non posse Deum in hoc cedere Juri Suo; quia esset veluti
prodigalitas quaedam irrationabilis : maxime respectu creaturae ra-
tionabilis, et pro tota seternitate. In aliis autem Praeceptis non
invenio hujusmodi immutabilitatem ex parte materiae; solo ex-
cepto mendacio, ut jam dixi, in quo fortasse est specialis ratio,
vel quia etiam respectu ipsius Dei malum est, vel quia de se non
limitatur ad materiam creatam, nee pendet ex dominio Dei in
ilia in vel in personam, sed in quacumque materia et de qua-
cumque persona dici potest; vel denique quia ejus deformitas
non pendet ex alio dominio, vel Divino Jure, sed statim oritur ex
dissonantia verborum ad mentem.
" Tandem ex dictis intelligitur, quo sensu dixerit Bernard,
in lib. citato de praecept. et dispensat. ca. 5, ea, qua? pertinent
ad Praecepta secundae tabulae, mutari posse auctoritate Dei
praecipientis : loquitur enim non de Prceceptis ipsis formaliter
sumptie, ut sic dicam, sed de actiorribus circa </uas ilia prcecepta
versantur. De quibus ait, cum per se nunquam liceant, auctori-
tate Dei praecipientis posse licere. Quod verum est in sensu
explicate: ilia tamen non est dispensatio in Praecepto secundae
tabulae, sed est mutatio materice ejus ; ut diximus. Tamen quia
haec mutatio, quando fit ex peculiari Dominio et Potestate Dei,
est (ut sic dicam) extra cursum naturae et praeter leges ordinariae
Providentiae, ideo interdum dispensatio appellatur; non quidem
proprie Pracepti Naluralis (neque hoc dixit Bernard, si attente
legatur) sed ordinarii cursus et legis Providentice, quae a divina
voluntate pendet: et in eodem sensu videtur loquutus Bona-
vent. ; nam sententiam Bernardi imitatur. Dices : ' ergo nulla
' erit tune differentia inter Praecepta primae et secundae tabulae,
' quam Bonavent. constituit3 et favet Bernard, nam statim cap. 6,
*dicit, quaedam ita esse immutabilia, ut nee a Deo Ipso mutari
( valeant.' Respondetur facile ex dictis, in hoc esse difFerentiam,
quod Prsecepta primae tabulae talia sunt, ut non solum ipsa for-
maliter dispensari non possint, verum etiam neque in actionibus
quas prohibent possit talis mutatio fieri, ut liceant vel honestae
sint; ac subinde, ut neque etiam materialiter sumptae honestari
possint Auctoritate Dei praecipientis. Odium enim Dei nullo
modo potest honestari, nee adoratio idoli, nee cultus alterius dei
praeter Deum Verum ; quia ab his actionibus secundum se sumptis
inseparabilis est deformitas, si libere fiant : quod non ita semper est
in actionibus pertinentibus ad Prsecepta secundae tabulae. Quod
non universaliter, sed indefinite, accipiendum est : aliqua enim
Praecepta secundae tabulae, possunt esse immutabilia etiam hoc
modo; ut aperte fatetur Bernard, dicto cap. 6, et in superioribus
satis explicatum est." — SUAREZ, De Legibus, lib. ii. cap. 15.
Viva takes the same view of the case with Suarez.
184 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
" Ex quibus deducitur, in quo sensu verum sit axioma
illud theologorum, Deum scilicet dispensare non posse in Jure
Naturae; cum tamen et Abrahse dispensarit, ut vellet occidere
filium innocentein ; et Israelitis, ut jEgyptios spoliarent; et Osese,
ut sumeret sibi uxorem fornicationum ; et Hebrseis, ut plures
uxores ducerent ; necnon ut possent dare ex rationabili causa
libellum repudii, et vinculum matrimonii dissolvere. Etenim ex
D. Th, 1, 2, qusest. 100, art. 8, in hisce actionibus non dis-
pensavit Deus sub iis circumstantiis, sub quibus sunt contra Jus
Natures et ab intrinseco mala ; non enim dispensavit in furto, ut
fieret invito Domino; nee in homicidio, ut fieret invito Domino
vita, qui est Deus ; nee in fornicatione, ut fieret per accessum ad
?io?i suam ; sed dispensavit, tollendo ab iis circumstantiam illam,
per quam essent intrinsece et esseritialiter malae ; et hoc pacto
dispensavit etiam in polygamia et dissolubiiitate matrimonii.
Non potest tamen hoc pacto dispensare in iis, quse sunt contra
Jus Naturae primo modo ; puta in odio Dei, in mendacio, in mollitie,
in peccato contra naturam, &c., quia hsec sunt intrinsece mala, et
essentialiter exigunt prohiberi simpliciter ; eo quod in qudcumque
circumstantid sint contra Jus Naturse, et illicita." — De Matrimonio,
qusest. 3, art. 3, n. 6.
And Billuart :—
" Potest tamen Lex Natural is nmtari improprie, quatenus ejus
materia sic potest mutari, quod desinat esse materia et objeetum
Legis : v.g, quam vis Lex dicat depositum esse reddendum, si tamen
petatur in perniciem patrise, redditio depositi desinit esse materia et
objeetum Legis ; quia Lex intelligitur de deposito reddendo circum-
specte et prudenter. Et de ist£ mutatione legis impropria loquiter
S. Th. durn hie dicit Legem Naturalem, quantum ad secunda
PraBcepta, posse mutari propter aliquas causas impedientes eorum
observantiam. Similiter, dum a. 4, prsecedenti dicit Legem Natu-
ralem, quantum ad principia propria qua3 sunt quasi conclusiones
communium, non esse unam apud omnes secundum rectitudinem, —
S. Doctorem intelligere de mutatione Legis Naturalis ex parte
matericB, patet ex lectione utriusque articuli, et ab exemplo quod
profert de lege depositi reddendi, quod, si repetatur irrationabiliter,
desinit esse materia legis.
" Ad cujus et sequentiuni elucidationem observandum est, esse
quasdam leges naturales, quse exprimuntur terminis tarn restrictis,
ut a re per eos significata impossibile sit abesse turpitudinem vel
honestatem ; ut ista : ( Non mentieris/ Sunt autem alise, qua3 ter-
minis latioribus exprimuntur, ita ut, quamvis rem per eos sig-
nificatam plerumque comitetur turpitudo vel honestas, potest
tamen ab ilia abesse; ut in his: ( Depositum reddes/ * Non
occides.' Ratio enim, seu Lex Naturalis, nihil aliud dictat, dictavit
GOD'S POWER OF INTERFERENCE WITH NATURAL RULE. 185
unqnam, aut dictare potuit, quam quod f depositum reddes' pru-
denter seu rationabiliter repetenti; et 'non occides' privatd aicc-
toritate seu indebiti ; et id facile apprehendit quisquis prudens et
intelligens : ex quo inferes, non in omnibus Praeceptis Legis Naturae
posse fieri mutationem ex parte materiae.
" Est itaque tantum quaestio de mutatione Legis Naturalis per
dispensationem ; an scilicet aliqua potestas, huraana vel saltern
Divina, possit in e& dispensare ?
" Dispensatio, sicut dixi de mutatione, est duplex ; proprie et
improprie dicta. Dispensatio proprie dicta, est relaxatio legis seu
ejus obligationis, in aliquo particulari, facta ab habente potestatem,
manente materia legis sic immutata, ut ejus obligatio remaneret si
non accideret auctoritas dispensantis. Unde, quamvis dispensatio
supponat aliquam legis interpretationem, ab e& tamen differt,
quod ad interpretationem non requiratur auctoritas, sed sufficit
prudentia et scientia.
" Dispensatio, improprie dicta, est quando legislator vel alter
sic mutat materiam legis, ut desinat comprehendi sub lege.
" Hinc dispensatio propria spectat legislatorem seu superiorem ;
dispensatio autem impropria spectat dominum materice, sive sit
legislator et superior, sive non. Sic Deus, concedendo spolia
^Egyptiorum Israelitis, egit ut Dominus, non ut Legislator. Sic
privatus, qui remittit mini debitum centum florenorum, agit ut
dominus istius debiti, non ut superior. E contra, si Deus aut
papa eximeret aliquem a lege jejunii vel sanctificationis Sabbati,
ageret ut Superior et Legislator. Et inde sequitur aliud discrimen :
quod dispensatio propria directe cadat supra legem; impropria
autem directe cadat supra materiam seu debitum : ita ut qui dis-
pensatur proprie, v.g. in jejunio, non teneatur amplius lege
jejunandi sicut tenentur alii : qui vero dispensatur improprie, v.g.
in redditione debiti quod remittitur, vel in ablatione alieni quod
ipsi conceditur h, domino, semper tenetur, sicut omnes alii, lege
naturali non furandi, aut solvendi debita. Quod si hie et nunc
licite aut alienum auferat, aut debitum non solvat, non est quia
eximitur ab istis legibus, sed quia non remanet vel alienum, vel
debitum, nee consequenter legis materia. Hsec, si bene perpen-
dantur, tollunt sequivocationes, quibus multi decipiuntur in ha^
material
" Circa propositam itaque quaestionem, Okam, Gerson, Petrus
de Alliaco et pauci quidam antiqui opinati sunt, Deum posse
absolute dispensare in omnibus prseceptis Legis Naturae; imo totam
illam legem abrogare; ita ut etiam odium Dei non esset peccatum.
Sed haec opinio merito rejicitur ab aliis theologis et nunc inolevit.
" Scotistae, cum suo duce, tenent Deum posse dispensare in
Praeceptis secundae tabulae tantum ; excepto Praecepto de mendacio.
" Communior aliorum theologorum sententia est, neque Deum
186 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
posse proprie dispensare in ullo Prcecepto Legis Naturae, sed tantum
improprie : cum quibus
"Dico, Neque Deus ipse absolute potest dispensare proprie in
Lege Naturali,bene tamen improprie." (De Legibus, diss.2. art. 4.)
Without further extending our quotations, the fol-
lowing passage from St. Bernard, to which Suarez
refers in his above-quoted chapter, deserves our careful
attention. St. Bernard indeed appears to be one of
those, who hold that there can be dispensation, pro-
perly so called, in regard to some external precepts of
the Natural Law. Suarez, it is true, in the last number
of the above chapter, denies that this is his real
meaning; and at all events, if it be, so far of course
I am unable to follow the Saint's authority. But
what appears particularly deserving of notice, is his
most clear and emphatic statement, as to the abso-
lutely immutable character of inward morality; of that
type of virtue, which the Christian religion has publicly
exhibited to the world :
" Necessarium ... in tria hsec subdividatur, stabile, invio-
labile, incommutabile. Et quidem stabile dixerim, quod ita est
necessarium, ut non cuilibet hominum illud mutare fas sit, nisi
solis dispensatoribus mysteriorum Dei, id est Prsepositis : ut, verbi
gratia, regulse Sanctorum Basilii, Augustini, Benedicti, necnon
et authentic! Canones, et si quse sunt alia ecclesiastica instituta
digna? auctoritatis Necessarium deinde, quod inviolabi e
nominavi, illud intelligo, quod non ab nomine traditum, sed di-
vinitus promulgatum, nisi a Deo qui tradidit mutari omnino non
patitur : ut, exempli causa, Non occides, Non moechaberis, Non
furtum facies, et reliqua illius tabula? legisscita ; qua? etsi nullam
prorsus humanam dispensationem admittunt, nee cuiquam homi-
num ex his aliquid aliquo modo solvere aut licuit aut licebit, —
Dominus tamen horum quod voluit, quando voluit, solvit; sive
cum ab Hebrseis ^Egyptios spoliari, sive quando Prophetam cum
muliere fornicaria misceri praecepit. Quorum utique alterum quid
nisi grave furti facinus, alterum quid nisi flagitii turpitude repu-
taretur, si non excusasset utrumque factum Auctoritas Imperantis ?
Sane ubi simile aliquid aliquarido a sanctis hominibus fuisse legi-
tur usurpatum, Scriptura non indicante quod Deus ita praeceperit,
— aut eos pecc&sse f'atendum est, sicut homines ; aut certe, sicut
prophetas, familiare Dei Consilium accepisse. Unde et unum
exemplum pono quod occurrit de Samsone, qui seipsum una cum
hostibus opprimens interfecit. Quod utique factum si defenditur
GOD'S POWER OF INTERFERENCE WITH NATURAL RULE. 187
non fuisse peccatum, privatum habuisse consilium indubitanter
credendus est, etsi de Scriptura hoc non habemus.
" Jam vero necessarium incommutabile quid accipi velim ?
Equidem nil congruentius, quam quod Divina ita constat et atemd
ratione firmatum, ut mil la ex causa possit, vel ab ipso Deo, aliqua-
tenus immutari. Sub hoc genere est omnis ilia sermonis Dominici
in monte habiti spiritualis traditio ; et quicquid de dilectione, humili-
tate, mansuetudine, cceterisque virtutibus, tarn in Novo quam in Veteri
Testamento spiritualiter observandwn contraditur. Ha3C quippe
talia sunt, quae nee liceat nee expediat aliquando non haberi. E6
siquidem immobiliter, quo et naturaliter bona, numquam nisi inno-
center, numquam nisi salubriter, aut imperantur aut observantur.
Omni tempore, omni persona, mortem contempta, custodita salu-
tem, operantur. Primam ergo necessitatem sua cuique f'acit in
promittendo voluntas, secundam prsecipientis Auctoritas, tertiam
pracepti dignitas.
" Differunt autem, ut jam dictum est, quibusdam a se invicem
gradibus tres istse necessitates, nee una omnes sequitur immutabili-
tatis firmitas. Nam ex prima quidem quod efficitur, etsi non
penitus immutabile, tamen vix mutabile esse constat: dum solis
illud liceat mutare prelatis ; et hoc nonnisi fideli et provida dis-
pensatione. Quod vero fit ex sequenti, quse et major ista, est
pene jam incommutabile ; soli quippe Deo esse mutabile superius
demonstratum est. Porro quod de novissima fit, tamquam omnium
maxima, omnino incommutabile est, utpote quod ne Ipsi quidem
Deo mutare liberum est. Quod igitur nulli hominum fas est, nisi
solis mutare prselatis, dici vix mutabile congrue potest; quod
soli constat licere Deo, dicatur pene immutabile; quod ne Ipsi
quidem, penitus immutabile nominetur." — S. BERNARDI, De Pre-
cept, et Dispensati, pp. 425, 426.
85. In the present Section we have spoken, almost
exclusively, on that part of the l Natural Rule,' which is
precisely co-extensive with the Natural Law ; that part,
viz. which is concerned with the independent sinfulness
of acts or their independent obligation. But we have
used this phrase ' Natural Rule' in a wider sense (see
n. 52, p. 117); we have used it to express, not merely
the fact that such or such acts are independently evil,
but that, among those which are not independently evil,
this is independently better than that, or less good than
the other. Our theory therefore will not be complete,
unless we include in it this part also of the Natural
Rule. The principles, however, which are here applic-
188 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
able, are most obvious and most simple. How far, and
in what way, they may ever be reduced to practice, it
is not here our business to consider.
(1.) Suppose A and B are two acts, incompatible
with each other, between which I can now choose.
Neither of them is independently evil ; but subjectively
speaking (see n. 57, pp. 124, 5) A is independently
better than B. Under all ordinary circumstances, I shall
act more virtuously, I shall more please my All-holy
Creator, by eliciting A than B. But suppose God to
command B : then not only would A cease to be in-
trinsecally better, it would be intrinsecally evil, as being
incompatible with act B, which has become of actual
obligation. This change of moral relation between these
two acts, comes of course from 'mutatio niaterise;' the
fact of God giving a Command, changes entirely the cir-
cumstances of that question which reason has to decide.
(2.) Suppose God, without giving a Command, inti-
mated to me His Preference ' hie et mine* for act B : act
A would not in this case be an actual sin ; but act B
would be, to an indefinite extent, intrinsecally better.
The 'mutatio materiae' would effect a total change of
relation, between the intrinsic character of these acts.
86. I have said that under such circumstances B is
intrinsecally better. In like manner, if God commanded
me to retain the deposited jewel, or to keep the Jewish
Sabbath, obedience to such command would be of ' in-
trinsic' obligation. This word c intrinsic' may appear to
you superficially as somewhat perplexing, when so
used ; as tending to overthrow that very distinction
which it has been my purpose to advocate, between
the Natural and the Divine Positive Law. It will
conduce then to clearness, if I explicitly answer any
such objection.
A Precept belongs to the Natural Law, when the
thing commanded is of independent obligation ; or (in
other words) of intrinsic obligation, apart from God's
Command : but the Precept belongs to the Positive Law,
when the thing's intrinsic obligation arises entirely from
God's Command.
GOD'S POWER OF INTERFERENCE WITH NATURAL RULE. 189
In other words, the Precepts of the Natural Law do
but add a fresh obligation, to one which exists apart
from any such Precept; but the Precepts of the Divine
Positive Law oblige to some act or acts, which, without
those Precepts, would not be obligatory at all.
In other words again, God is necessitated by His
Sanctity to impose those Precepts which belong to the
Natural Law ; but those which belong to the Positive
Law, flow wholly from His free choice.
I have reserved the phrase ' independent obligation/
to express exclusively an obligation which exists ' in-
dependently' of God's Will. But it is important (I
think) from time to time to use the word ' intrinsic/
as applying to either case of obligation ; and this, for
the purpose of keeping vividly in our minds the great
truth, that God acts, as Moral Governor, in a way
removed to the greatest possible extent from reckless-
ness or caprice. He does not, and cannot consistently
with His Sanctity, praise or censure, reward or punish,
anything except what is intrinsecally good or evil
respectively. His gratuitous gifts He, of course, im-
parts far more largely to this man than to that, on
grounds often wholly irrespective of moral desert.
But He cannot praise or reward, except that which is
intrinsecally good; He cannot blame or punish, except
that which is intrinsecally evil. Suppose e. g. He
commands all men (as He does) to submit themselves
to the Catholic Church. If I have no means of knowing
that Command, it is inconsistent with the fundamental
notion of Sanctity, that He should punish me for
disobeying it. If I have the means of knowing and
wilfully omit to use them, He punishes me for the
4 intrinsic' sinfulness of such omission. If I know the
Command and refuse to comply, He punishes me for the
'intrinsic' sinfulness of such disobedience.
And so, as to relative degrees of virtuousness ; I
cannot render my conduct more acceptable to Him,
except by doing that which is intrinsecally better. A
truth this, which is of course perfectly consistent with
that other stated in the last number ; viz. that in
190 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
various cases my knowledge of His preference renders
an act intrlnsecally better, which would otherwise be
less good. This arises (as we have seen) simply from
4 mutatio materiae : ' it arises from the fact, that such
expression of His Preference changes the circumstances
of the case ; in other words, changes the matter, on
which reason has to pronounce.
87. I will beg you now to study the Appendix to
this Chapter ; which, for mere reasons of physical con-
venience, is printed at the end of the book instead of
here. You will find that the various propositions, dis-
cussed in the three last Sections, and also those con-
tained in the Appendix to which I have referred, throw
great additional light on the principles and arguments
contained in Sections II. and III. I will beg you there-
fore, after having read the Appendix, once more to study
those two Sections, from your new standing ground;
for you will thus obtain a far more complete and syste-
matic grasp of those truths, which it has been my object
in this Chapter to set before you.
The importance of the truths in question is ex-
tremely great. The one main category, under which
we regard men's acts in Theology, is as being right or
wrong ; more or less right ; more or less wrong. Nor
is it a small part of Theology, but more extensive than
all the rest put together, which at every turn refers,
both to human acts and to these their intrinsic qualities.
Unless therefore you have most carefully studied the
subject, you will fall for certain into one of the very
worst intellectual habits, which can possibly come upon
a philosophical or theological student ; the habit of
unconsciously using words, without precise correspond-
ing ideas.
The principles which have here been established,
will receive, as we proceed in our Theology, a con-
stantly increasing development ; and in this develop-
ment we shall be very greatly assisted, by the Church's
definitions, and by the labours of her greatest theolo-
gians. But I think (with the exception of one or two
other truths which are to be comprised in our third
GOD'S POWER OF INTERFERENCE WITH NATURAL RULE. 191
Chapter) all has here been stated, which is requisite
as a philosophical basis, whereon that subsequent struc-
ture may be reared.
I will only remark in conclusion, that the matters
handled in theological works under the head ' de
principiis moralitatis,' are altogether different from
those which we have been considering. This incon-
venience however has not deterred me from using a
title, which seemed more appropriate than any other I
could think of, for expressing the contents of this
Chapter.
192
CHAPTER II.
ON ETHICAL PSYCHOLOGY.
88. HITHERTO we have been regarding, under various
aspects, those Precepts and Counsels, which God, as
being All-holy, could not but propose to mankind.
He is perfectly free, as we have so often remarked, not
to create men; He is not free, having created them,
to place before them Precepts or Counsels essentially
different from these. We now turn our attention to
His constitution of our own nature ; we proceed to
enquire, under what circumstances of advantage or
disadvantage He has placed us men, by giving us that
nature, towards the fulfilment of those Precepts and
Counsels. The present Chapter then, however closely
connected it may be in one sense with the former, yet
belongs to a different part of Philosophy altogether.
The former Chapter treated of necessary truth, this is
to treat of contingent ; the former was wholly meta-
physical, this is to be wholly psychological. Let me
explain my meaning in this statement, a little more
at length.
Those truths, which were the object of our con-
sideration in the previous Chapter, are truths of such
a character, that it is intrinsecally impossible they
should be other than they are : but those which are
now to occupy us, are simply due to God's free ap-
pointment. There are various sciences, as you very
well know, occupied with such truths ; Astronomy,
Chemistry, Botany, and the like. Just then as Botany
contemplates the various properties which God has
given to flowers, so Psychology contemplates the vari-
ON ETHICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 193
ous properties which He has given to the human soul.
In our former Chapter, we were not concerned at all
Avith the phenomena of our soul, except so far as those
phenomena enabled us to apprehend various truths
wholly external to the soul ; but here the phenomena
of our soul are our direct object of enquiry. In every
branch of human study, I need not say, our soul is the
contemplating subject ; but in Psychology, alone of all
sciences whether necessary or contingent, it is also the
contemplated object.
I make no profession however of carrying you
through all Psychology. A very large proportion of
mental phenomena, have no direct bearing on man's
moral or spiritual action at all ; and with these we do
not here concern ourselves. What are the laws which
regulate memory — or what is the true account of the
sublime and beautiful — or what are the phenomena of
the poetical temperament — these, and a thousand other
psychological questions, may be of great moment to
the philosopher as such ; but they do not subserve the
purposes of Theology. I call our present study then
'Ethical Psychology;' and include under it those facts
of human nature, which are directly concerned with
ethical truths. What means are given to each of us
by nature, for knowing right and wrong? — what are
the various impulses which lead in one direction and
the other? — is it possible to do evil for the sake
of evil, 'male agere propter inalitiam?' — are we so
constituted that on the whole virtue and happiness
coincide? — which is the stronger motive, and in what
cases, desire of happiness or desire of virtue? — these,
and many other enquiries of a similar kind, fall under
our treatment. We may call it in one word the map of
our moral nature. A historian, before he begins his
narrative, prefixes an account of the country to which
it refers. Here is a chain of mountains — there a
rapidly-flowing river — here the soil has one important
peculiarity, there another. And in like manner, before
considering in order those various wonders of which
man's moral nature is the theatre, — it is very con-
o
194 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
ducive to clearness, that we first investigate the con-
formation of that nature itself, as it came from its
Creator's hands.
Such then is the character, such the limitation, of
that portion of science which we here undertake. We
must begin our treatment of it however, by stating
various facts, which underlie the whole science of
Psychology in its fullest extent.
195
SECTION I.
On the Three-fold Classification of Mental Phenomena.
89. I assume, from the ordinary philosophical books,
a truth which is, I believe, pretty generally recognized.
The soul is a perfectly simple substance. When this
is said, it is very far from being meant (of course) that
the soul is simple, as God is Simple. He is intrinsecally
incapable of change; existing 'extra tempus;' u the
Same yesterday, to-day, and for ever:" while the soul
on the other hand, I need not say, is at every moment
undergoing great changes or modifications. If I may
use the expression then, I do not mean that the soul
is ' extensively' simple, but that it is 'intensively' so;
that it is incapable, from its nature, of any physical
division. We may imagine a table or a chair, divided
into its various constituent parts; we could imagine
this, even though we were wholly unable to effect that
division. But if we could see the soul, we should see
that such division is wholly wmmaginable, because
there are no constituent parts into which it could be
divided.*
90. It is also, I believe, universally recognized, that
we have, and can have, no direct knowledge whatever
of that substance which we call the soul. We know, and
can know, no more of it, than those various successive
modifications of which we are conscious. Here how-
* For a recital of authorities on this doctrine of the soul's simplicity, see
Sir W. Hamilton's " Lectures on Metaphysics and Logic," vol. ii. pp. 5-9.
Among theologians, he considers that St. Augustine, Scotus, and also the
Nominalists held this view ; while St. Thomas and his followers denied it.
I may add that Suarez considers it far the more probable opinion, that there
is no real distinction, between the soul on the one hand and the intellect or
will on the other ; and I think the later scholastics take the same opinion
for granted. I imagine no one in the present day doubts it.
196 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
ever, lest this word ' conscious' be unduly contracted in
its sense, I will anticipate one remark, which we shall
have to make again and again hereafter. Among the
various mental phenomena whereof we are conscious,
it is but a very small part on which we ordinarily
reflect. Hence it follows, that by carefully examining
what passes in our mind, we are able to discover a very
far greater number of phenomena than we had at all
suspected. My grounds for making this statement, will
come before us as we proceed ; but I make it here, lest
the word ' conscious ' should be misunderstood, and
limited to a sense far narrower than that which I intend.
91. Now these various mental phenomena or modi-
fications of the soul, fall most obviously and irresistibly
under three classes ; intellectual acts, which I will call
cognitions ; volitions ; emotions. I say they fall into
these three classes, obviously and irresistibly. Any
emotion, e. g. most strikingly resembles any other emo-
tion, in the various laws to which it is subject; and
no less strikingly differs in this respect from every
cognition or volition. Any volition again most
strikingly resembles any other volition in the various
laws to which it is subject; and no less strikingly differs
in this respect from every cognition and emotion. Cog-
nitions are bound together precisely in the same way ;
by mutual agreement with each other, and by distinction
from all other phenomena.
It is of the very greatest importance, that this
fundamental classification should be constantly kept
before us in our psychological enquiries; and it will
be a very great advantage therefore, if our very mode
of speech constantly reminds us of its existence. This
service science has performed, by adopting the terms
4 intellect,' c will,' c sensitive appetite.' All volitions
are spoken of, as proceeding from the will ; all cognitions,
as elicited by the intellect; all emotions, as experienced
by the sensitive appetite. We must not of course
suppose for an instant, that there is any such thing as
intellect, will, or sensitive appetite ; that the soul, e. g.
is compounded of those three elements, as a chair is
compounded of legs, seat, and back. They are but
THREE-FOLD CLASSIFICATION OF MENTAL PHENOMENA. 197
abstractions, used by science for the purpose of keeping
constantly before our minds the great fact I have just
explained— the threefold classification of mental phe-
nomena.
92. Let us consider in order these various classes
of phenomena. And first for emotions.
By emotions, as you well know, are signified all
those modifications of the soul, wherein it experiences
pleasure or pain of whatever character. All emotions
therefore are either (1) pleasurable, or (2) painful, or
(3) uniting both in various degrees. It is implied in our
definition, that we include under the general term * emo-
tions,' what are commonly called * bodily appetites/ And
very conveniently ; for it will be seen, as we proceed, that
these are governed, in all essential respects, by the same
laws which regulate mental emotions. It follows also,
from what has been said, that all emotions are concerned
necessarily with some object; the possession or thought
of which causes pleasure or pain as the case may be.
They move moreover towards such pleasurable object,
or from such painful object, in this or that various
manner. He who should enumerate every object, the
possession or thought of which causes pleasure or pain;
— and who should enumerate also our various feelings
in regard to any such given object; — would tell us all
that it is possible to know of the sensitive appetite.
93. I will use the word ' propension' to express our
susceptibility of pleasure or pain from the thought or
possession of this or that object. Thus my love of men's
esteem, — or in other words my susceptibility of pleasure
from a belief that men esteem me, — is a * propension.'
Again my love of food, — or in other words, my suscepti-
bility of pleasure from the reception of food when I am
hungry, — is a 'propension.' Once more; my hatred of
bodily lesion, — in other words my susceptibility of pain
from my flesh being in any way lacerated, — this is a
' propension.' And our various propensions are gratified,
so far as we possess in some sense the various objects
which give pleasure, or are free from those which
give pain.
Now the very wording of the last paragraph, will
198 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
suggest a somewhat important classification of the
propensions. Many of these, derive all the gratification
of which they are capable, from the mere belief that
their object exists. Take, as an instance of this, the
propension which we call love of approbation. If I
firmly believe that my fellow-creatures regard me with
feelings of admiration, my propension enjoys its full
satisfaction ; the actual fact that they do so, literally
adds nothing to that satisfaction. My enjoyment, I
say, would be no whit the less, even though they held
me in execration, so long as I confidently and un-
doubtingly believe the opposite. In like manner, the
pleasure derived by a vindictive man from his enemy's
misery, requires for its full existence nothing more than
a confident belief that such misery exists : the sight of
it only increases the pleasure, as making the belief
itself more vivid. And there are very many other
cases of a similar kind. But this is far from being true
of all the propensions. I believe, e. g. that this is
tender and nutritious food, having never tasted any
better : but who will say that my appetite is as satisfac-
torily appeased by eating such food, as it would be if its
quality were really what I think it? Still more, who
will say that my appetite is satisfied, by a mere belief
that the food is before me ? Plainly a far closer contact
with the object is here necessary, than is implied in the
mere belief of its existence.
Who can hold a fire in his hand,
By thinking of the frosty Caucasus ?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,
By bare imagination of the feast ?
This distinction is of sufficient importance, to require
a distinct name for the two classes. Some of our pro-
pensions, we have seen, possess their object, by the mere
fact of our belief th^t it exists; but others require a far
closer contact. For want of a better name, let us call
the latter 'physical propensions' and the former 'non-
physical.7
St. Thomas, in one part .of his " Surnma," seems
to imply, that the physical propensions are precisely
THREE-FOLD CLASSIFICATION OF MENTAL PHENOMENA. 199
identical with the bodily appetites; at least in that
more extended sense of the word, which would include,
e. g. love of music in that category.* I am not meaning
to imply that there are many exceptions to this state-
ment ; but a very little thought will shew that there are
some. Let us take what with some minds is among the
strongest propensions they have, — love of adequate
intellectual scope : to some minds, I say, the absence of
such scope is among the keenest of miseries ; the yoke
of a false and narrow philosophy is a worse than Egypt-
ian slavery. Now we may ask, are these men exempted
from such suffering, simply by believing that their present
philosophy is true and sufficient? Or rather is not
the very opposite the fact? Never are they so miserable,
as when (through misplaced reverence for authority)
they undoubtingly believe in this false system ; and their
daring to doubt it is their first step, towards emancipa-
tion from this misery of intellectual bondage. Nothing
then can be more certain, than that this propension is
' physical-/ yet who can say that it is a bodily appetite,
even in the most extended possible sense of that term ?
Which of our propensions are physical, and which
non -physical, is a question to be treated in a later
Section, when we enter on a systematic consideration
of our various propensions. This systematic con-
sideration will lead, I think, to conclusions of much
interest and importance ; but before beginning it, it will
be better to treat one or two preliminary subjects,
which may be far more briefly despatched.
* ' Respondeo dicendum, quod, sicut dictum est (a prec.) peccata reci-
piunt speciem ab objectis. Omne autem peccatum consistit in appetitu
alicujus commutabilis boni, quod inordinate appetitur ; et per consequens,
in eo jam habito inordinate aliquis delectatur. Ut autem ex superioribus
patet (qu. 31, art. 3.) duplex est delectatio. Una quidem animalis, ques
consummatur in sold apprehensions alicujus rei ad votum habitso ; et haec
etiam potest dici delectatio spirituals : sicut cum aliquis delectatur inlaude
humand, vel in aliquo hujusmodi. Alia vero delectatio est corporate, sive
naturalis, quse in ipso tactu corporali perficitur ; quse potest etiam dici
delectatio carnalis.' — 1, 2 qu. 72, art. 2. 0.
200
SECTION II.
On the Passions.
94. 1 observed just now, that he who should enunciate
every object which causes pleasure or pain ; — and
should enumerate also our various feelings in regard to
any such given object; — would tell us all that can be
known of the sensitive appetite. Now to enumerate
every object which causes pleasure or pain, is to
enumerate our various c propensions ' (n. 93). To
enumerate our various feelings in regard to any such
given object, is to enumerate our various * passions.'
This latter is a far easier task than the former, and
we at once proceed with it.
I say then, firstly, by way of definition, that what-
ever pleasurable or painful object be in question, — the
passions are the various modes, in which my emotions
tend to that pleasure, or recede from that pain. We
must be on our guard here, against associations arising
from the ordinary use of the term. In common par-
lance, the word c passion ' implies something violent and
extreme : but in theological language the faintest emo-
tion is a c passion ; ' it is one or other passion, directed
to one or other pleasurable object, or from one or other
painful object.*
* The following passages from St. Thomas will, I think, sufficiently
shew, that he intends to include, under the name of passion, every kind of
emotion.
' Motus appetitus sensitivi proprie passio nominatur ; sicut supra dictum
< est.'— 1, 2, queest. 22, art. 3.
' Affectio autem qucecumque, ex apprehensione sensitiva procedens, est
' motus appetitus sensitivi.' — Qusest. 31, art. 1.
Again — ' Stoici, sicut ponebant omnem passionem animse esse malam,
' ita ponebant consequeiiter omnem passionem animse diminuere actus
' bonitatem : omne enim bonum, ex permixtione mali, vel totaliter tollittir,
' vel fit minus bonum.
1 Et hoc quidem verum est, si dicamus passiones animse solum inordi-
ON THE PASSIONS. 201
95. The Aristotelic enumeration of the passions,
which the scholastic theologians have followed, seems
to me extremely good on the whole, though open to
some criticism. I will first place it before you as it
stands, and afterwards proceed to the requisite com-
ments.
To fix our ideas by an instance. Let us suppose the
particular propension before us to be love of approba-
tion; or (mother words) let us suppose the pleasurable
object, towards which the various passions are directed,
to be the applause of our fellow-men. If I think of the
fact that I am unpopular, I experience a painful emotion ;
' how I long to be more admired :' this is ' Desiderium,'
desire or longing. On the other hand, if I think of the
fact that I am popular, I experience a pleasurable
emotion ; my spirits rise (as it were) and dance ; I say
to myself, ' How very delightful:' here is ' Delectatio.'
I may think however of human applause, without par-
ticularly considering whether I do or do not possess it :
and so I experience a much fainter emotion; 'what a
pleasant thing to have:' this is 'Amor.' So here we
have our three first passions ; ' Amor,' ' Desiderium,'
* Delectatio.' Let us write them down, and place under
them their three opposites. Thus
1. Amor. 2. Desiderium. 3. Delectatio.
4. Odium. 5. Fuga. 6. Tristitia.
These latter three passions are concerned with the
corresponding painful object, unpopularity. If I think
of unpopularity, without considering whether I am un-
popular or not, I experience a faint emotion, ' Odium ; '
' what a disagreeable thing ! ' If I reflect that there is
great danger of my becoming unpopular, I experience
the emotion 'Fuga;' 'oh that I might escape from that
* natos modes sensitivi appetites ; prout sunt perturbationes seu segritudines.
'Sed si passiones simpliciter nominenms omnes motus appetites sensitivi,
* sic ad pcrfectionem humani boni pertinet, qu6d etiam ipsse passiones sint
' moderatse per rationem.' — Ibid, qusest. 24, art 3, 0.
And he repeats the same statement almost verbatim qusest. 59, art. 5, 0.
Suarez again — 'Omnis actus appetites sensitivi est et dicitur animae
' passio.'
202 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
calamity.' If I reflect that I am already very unpopular,
' Tristitia' or 'Dolor:' grief at the depressing fact.
96. So far, I have no unfavourable comment whatever
to offer ; nothing, I think, can be clearer or more satisfac-
tory. I must add however one or two somewhat im-
portant facts ; and firstly on the passion ' Delectatio.'
In the case of 'physical' propensions (seen. 93),
the passion ' Delectatio ' may be experienced, without
our thinking in any way (explicitly or implicitly) of
its object. Thus (if it be not thought too trivial an
instance) there are many, to whom the process of
digestion is exhilarating ; and who are consequently
(under ordinary circumstances) specially cheerful, im-
mediately after dinner. This cheerfulness is none the
less experienced, though the mind is not thinking in
any way, either of the present digestion or the past
dinner. The keen and active thinker again, who has
found adequate intellectual scope, enjoys exquisite plea-
sure in consequence, even though he has never once
adverted to the fact.
From this it follows, that from these physical pro-
pensions, ' Delectatio ' may be experienced in three dif-
ferent ways. If, e.g. I hear beautiful music, the sounds
give me great pleasure. If, in addition, I advert to the
fact ' what beautiful music I am hearing,' the thought
gives me further pleasure. Lastly, when it is all over,
I may fancy myself in imagination hearing the same
sweet sounds ; and a real, though somewhat faint, ' De-
lectatio' then also ensues. Even in the case of non-
physical propensions, a twofold ' Delectatio' is possible.
Thus, though I know myself unpopular, I may indulge
in a day -dream of popularity ; I may draw vivid pic-
tures of the imaginary cheers which I receive ; I may
sketch out in fancy addresses of admiration which are
to be voted me, and which are really to do some justice
at last to my admirable qualities. And so perhaps,
not unfrequently, a weak-minded man pursues this
very foolish course of thought, ' atque animum pictura
pascit inamY Or the native of a Southern clime again,
when unable to reach his enemy, may imagine him in
ON THE PASSIONS. 203
his power; — gloat over every detail of the ideal ven-
geance which he inflicts; — count the victim's supposed
sufferings, and rejoice in his fancied groans.
These various distinctions of 'Delectatio' are suf-
ficiently important, to deserve special names. First
then, in all the propensions we may distinguish between
4 Delectatio Apprehensiva' and * Delectatio Imaginativa,'
4 the delight of possession' and c of imagination.' 4 De-
lectatio Apprehensiva' will be the delight, which we ex-
perience, in actually possessing the object: in the case of
non-physical propensions, it will be the delight which
we experience in firmly believing that it exists ; in the
others, it will be the delight obtained by that far closer
contact, which in their case is possible. 'Delectatio
Iinaginativa' will be the far fainter delight which we
may derive, even when knowing the object to be absent,
by fancying ourselves to possess it.
Then in the case of physical propensions, the c De-
lectatio Apprehensiva' will be subdivided into 4 Delec-
tatio Physica,' the delight of contact with the object;
and 4 Delectatio Reflexiva,' the delight which ensues,
from adverting to the circumstance that we are thus
in contact. But there will be no such distinction as
this latter, in the case of non-physical propensions.
There is another fact connected with this same pas-
sion, which a very little observation will suffice to
establish. The pleasure caused, whether by the contact
of a pleasurable object, or by the thought of its exist-
ence, often lasts for a much longer period than that
during which such contact or thought continues. Let
us take an instance already given of a physical propen-
sion ; the delight of a keen intellect, which has found
its adequate field of speculation. It is not merely that
this pleasure is enjoyed, while the mind is engaged on
that field ; its possession diffuses enjoyment through
the whole day. The pain which preceded was a con-
stant pain, affecting the whole current of life; so also
is the pleasure. The same truth equally holds in the
case of non-physical propensions. The vain-glorious
man, who has made a great hit in Parliament, or written
204 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
a first-rate book, not merely enjoys the delight of
praise while he is thinking of it ; but has his whole
life sweetened by it for some weeks to come.
The distinction, expressed in the respective words
* Apprehensiva' and c Imaginativa,' is peculiar to the
passion c Delectatio ; ' but the other two remarks just
made apply to all the passions. For (1) every passion,
in the case of physical propensions, may be divided into
' physica' and 'reflexiva;' and (2) it is true of all the
passions, that they often continue to possess us, long
after the object which caused them has passed away.
As an instance of the first remark, take a case of the
passion c Tristitia.' There is no more common remark, in
reference to one who labours chronically under weak
health, than this — how greatly his suffering is increased,
if he indulges in the habit of thinking much on his own
ailments; thus adding to c Tristitia Physica' 'Tristitia
Reflexiva.' The second remark may be illustrated by
another passion. I may be wrought into a great access
of rage, from the infliction of some stinging insult : this
passion (as we shall soon see) is in fact ' Desiderium/
directed to the pleasurable object of vindictive retribu-
tion. Now it is evident, that this emotion of anger often
continues, and unconsciously influences the whole cur-
rent of my ideas, for a considerable period after all
thought of vindictive retribution has ceased.
There is no need of pursuing the subject further,
in its general shape ; but there are particular reasons
for saying a few words on the particular passion
' Desiderium,' and on its distinction (in the cases of
physical propensions) into 'Desiderium Physicum' and
4 Reflexivum.'
Thus take the phenomena of hunger. The bodily
yearning for food may continue, and seriously affect
the spirits, at times when we are not thinking of food
at all. Here is ' Desiderium Physicum.' If, in addition,
I turn my thoughts to my need of food, and begin
mentally longing for the time when I shall get it, here
is ' Desiderium Reflexivum ;' a further suffering, and a
very considerable one, in addition to the former.
ON THE PASSIONS. 205
To this statement perhaps exception may be taken ;
and it may be thought an improper expression, to say
that I experience * Desiderium' for a thing which has
perhaps never entered my thoughts. This however is
a purely verbal question ; on the fact, there is and can
be no difference of opinion. I experience that uneasy
sensation which we call hunger; a sensation which
arises simply from the absence of food. Moreover the
sensation is such, that simply in consequence of it, the
sight or the thought of food leads me instinctively and
at once to press towards the attainment of that object. I
think that 'Desiderium Physicum cibi,' is not an unsuit-
able way of expressing this phenomenon ; and therefore
I use the expression. Those who differ from me, differ
not on any question of facts, but on this mere question
of verbal propriety.
Similiter et de motibus illis pudendis philosophan-
dum est, qui saepe in corpore insurgunt, dum intellectus
ab omni turpi cogitatione penitus liber est et immunis.
Hi motus ad ' Desiderium' referri debent ; ' Desiderium7
autem 'Physicum' et non ' Reflexivum.'
And so in the other instance we have so often given :
the longing for freedom from the bondage of a false
philosophy. A sense of intellectual misery, and a
yearning desire of escape, will often exist, when we are
actually ignorant what is that evil which distresses us ;
what is that relief which we seek.
Finally, it will be convenient if we here recapitulate,
what are those cases in which an emotion may exist,
without any thought of its object. We have found that
these cases are of two kinds. First, in the case of phy-
sical propensions, when the passion has not been in any
sense caused by a thought of the object; nay, when
that thought perhaps has never existed. Secondly, in
the case of ail the propensions, when the passion has
been caused indeed by a thought of the object, but con-
tinues long after such thought has ceased.
97. But there are five more passions in the Aris-
totelic catalogue; and to them I now proceed. The
pleasurable object, says Aristotle, may perhaps not
206 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
only be simply a ' bonum delectabile,' but a ' bonum
arduum;' an object winch cannot be possessed without
danger or effort. That we may derive our illustration
from the same propension as before, let us take the case
of military fame. Here there will be scope for further
passions. Thus there may be ' Spes,' hope of obtaining
this great prize ; and ' Audacia,' boldness in pursuing it :
there may be also the contraries to these ; ' Despera-
tio,' despair of achieving so difficult an object, and
' Timor,' fear of the surrounding dangers. Thus :
Spes. Audacia.
Desperatio. Timor.
Further, he adds, there may be ' Ira ;' rage against any
one, who seeks to deprive me of this much-desired pos-
session.
These last five passions are called ' irascible,' and
so distinguished from the others which are called 'concu-
piscible.' For what reason? Because men of sanguine
and ardent, in other words of ' irascible,' temper, are
quite specially disposed to 'Spes,' 'Audacia,' and 'Ira;'
are disposed to them quite differently in degree from
other men : whereas there is no such broad distinction
among mankind, as to those who experience ' Amor,'
' Desiderium,' and the rest.
To complete the Aristotelic theory of passions, I
should add one further statement. When I wish, in
behalf of another, those very things which I wish in my
own behalf; — dread for another those which I dread
for myself; — delight in the possession by another of
those very things which I delight myself in possessing ;
— I am said to experience for that other man the
passion called ' Amor Amicitia3,' or more generally
' Amor Benevolentia3.' The passion which I called
simply 'Amor' in n. 95, is called in full 'Amor Con-
cupiscentiae.' Opposed to ' Amor AmicitiaB' is ' Odium
InimicitiaB;' which I experience towards a person, for
whom I desire those very things which I regard in my
own case as evils. Opposite to ' Amor Concupiscentiae '
is ' Odium Abominationis :' such as a vain-glorious man
ON THE PASSIONS. 207
feels for unpopularity ; or a musical man for harsh and
discordant sounds.
98. All this latter part of Aristotle's theory is
open (I think) to much criticism ; though the whole
matter is of small moment. But first I will mention a
little error, which is rather a blunder or hastiness of
expression, than a philosophical mistake. He classes
'fear' and 'despair' among the 'irascible' passions:
whereas of course they af e of a precisely opposite cha-
racter ; they are experienced less, in proportion as our
temperament is more 'irascible.' But now for more
important remarks.
(2.) It is surely an undeniable mistake, to speak of
' Hope' as peculiar to the pursuit of < bonum arduum,'
or as specially appertaining to men of ' irascible ' tem-
perament. Hope, in its various degrees, is common to
every kind of 'bonum' and every kind of character.
It may be said indeed with truth, that where the 'bonum'
is ' arduum,' irascible men will be far more given to Hope
than others : but there are numberless cases of ' bona
non ardua' being very fervently hoped for, by very
weak-spirited and ordinary men.*
(3.) Then the opposite to 'Hope' should rather (I
think) be ' Fear' than ' Despair.' ' I hope for popularity : '
* Since writing the above, I have been interested in finding that Bipalda
makes this same remark (de Virtutibus Theologicis, d. 21, sec. 4.) He is
speaking indeed directly of ' Spes voluntatis? but we shall see in the next
Section, that whether the question be of Hope- the emotion, or Hope the
volition, the true answer, as to the arduousness of its object, must be pre-
cisely the same. Indeed Ripalda's arguments as often refer to the emotion
as to the volition. I will extract a small portion of his remarks : —
" Ex quibus colligitur, Spem genericd sumptam non distingui a Desiderio
arduitate objecti. Prim6, quia non apparet in quo haec arduitas object!
consistat. Secund6 quia possumus desiderare bona ardua, quin ea spere-
mus ; quia ea non occurrunt [ut] futura : tune autem datur Desiderium
boni ardui, sine ulla Spe et interdum cum Desperatione. Tertio quia saepe
arduitate objecti crescit Desiderium et decrescit Spes : conditio autem objec-
tiva Spei, dividens ipsum a Desiderio, non potest augere Desiderium et
minuere Spem.
" Hinc crediderim S. Thomam, vendicantem arduitatem ad Spem et ex
ipsa distinguentem a Desiderio, non agere de Spe genericd, sed de Spe per-
tinente ad partem irascibilem, excitante bilim ad superandas dimcultates
objecti ardui Unde spes non constituit in parte irascibili, quia ex
conceptu generico Spes respicit determinate bonum arduum, sed quia capax
est ex tali conceptu bonum arduum expetere." — nn. 34, 35.
208 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
what corresponds to this on the opposite side? Surely
this; 'I fear unpopularity.' And this statement is
sanctioned by common usage ; for Hope and Fear are
always mentioned as opposed to each other.
(4.) If ' Audacia' is to be made parallel to the other
passions, we must translate it ' Boldness in pursuit.'
We have had ' Love' for such a ' bonum ;' ' Longing' for
it; 'Hope' of it: plainly then 'Audacia' will be 'Bold-
ness in pursuit' of it.
(5.) My chief comments however must be made on
' Ira.' And here I will begin with a small criticism.
It is not true (I think) that 'Ira,' in its prominent
development, is peculiar to men of ' irascible' tempera-
ment. Anger exists quite as prominently and per-
vasively in the feeblest minds ; though with them it
takes a different shape, that of ill-humour, ill-temper,
or peevishness. " That which in a more feeble temper,"
says Butler, " is peevishness, and languidly discharges
itself on everything which comes in its way, this same
principle, in a temper of greater force and stronger pas-
sions, becomes rage and fury. In one the humour dis-
charges itself all at once ; in the other it is continually
discharging."
Next I make a remark, which goes more deeply in
opposition to the Aristotelic enumeration of passions.
It is obvious at once that ' Ira' does not appertain to the
various 'bona,' or even the various 'bona ardua,' in the
sense in which the other passions appertain to them. I
experience 'Love' of military fame ; 'Longing' for it;
'Hope' of it; 'Boldness in pursuit' of it; but not
4 Anger' of it. Anger surely does not appertain to
every ' bonum delectabile,' or even to every ' bonum
arduurn ;' but only to one single ' bonum delectabile,'
viz. 'vindictive retribution.' Anger then is no separate
passion ; but is one or other of the passions above
named, exercised on that propension, which we may call
for the present c love of vindictive retribution.' The
'longing' for vindictive retribution; the 'hope' of it;
'boldness in pursuit' of it; finally, the 'delight' in it
when attained; — all these represent the various phases
ON THE PASSIONS. 209
of anger ; they represent those phases, beginning with
its commencement, and ending with its final result,
where it vents itself in acts of vindictive infliction.
What was it then which led Aristotle to class it as a
passion ? I imagine the following was his reason. Sup-
pose I experience an emotion of * Desiderium ' for wealth,
or power, or knowledge, — there is no very marked
peculiarity, distinguishing the passion in one of these
cases as compared with any other. Now on the con-
trary, no states of mind can be more signally distinct as
phenomena, than 'Desiderium.' of wealth or power on the
one hand and 'Desiderium' of vindictive retribution (i. e.
Anger) on the other hand. Hence probably it is, that
Aristotle was induced to count the 'Desiderium' of vin-
dictive retribution as a different passion from ordinary
' Desiderium.' But if this principle were to be acted on
consistently — viz. of naming a distinct passion, wherever
the emotion has a very distinct phenomenal character of
its own, — the list of passions would be marvellously in-
creased. Those emotions which we call Envy, and
Pride, and Vain-glory ^ have quite as undeniably distinct
characteristics of their own, as the emotion which we
call Anger ; and those emotions which relate to the Sixth
Commandment, have still more peculiar characteristics.
It is very far better then on every ground, that we keep
once for all to the very plain and intelligible distinction,
between passions and propensions.
(6.) And now we come to that part of Aristotle's
theory, which represents 'Amor AmicitisB' as a distinct
passion. Plainly, like Anger, it is no passion, but a
propension ; viz. my susceptibility of pleasure from my
friend's interest being promoted. To this pleasurable
object, or from the opposite pain, all the various pas-
sions may be directed ; ' Longing ' for the promotion of
those interests ; ' Hope ' of their promotion ; ' Boldness
in pursuit ' of their promotion ; and the rest.
(7.) Lastly, at a later period of this Chapter, I hope
to shew that the passion ' Amor ' is equally distinct from
' Amor Concupiscentise.'
99. Summing up the results of our criticism, we
p
210 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
may suggest the following re-arrangement of the * pas-
sions.' We will drop the distinction between irascible
and concupiscible ; which is indeed a very important
distinction in regard to the temperament of different
men, but cannot (I think) without inconvenience be
introduced into the enumeration of the passions. We
retain ten passions, and may state them in the following
order : —
1. Positive. Amor, Desiderium, Spes, Audacia, Delectatio.
2. Negative. Odium, Fuga, Timor, Desperatio, Tristitia.
On this arrangement, one only remark is necessary
in conclusion. c Desperatio ' is opposed to 4 Audacia,'
in a way differing from that in which the other negative
passions are opposed to their corresponding positives.
4 Desperatio ' and 4 Audacia ' are both exercised upon
the same pleasurable object; whereas in the other cases
the positive passion is directed to the pleasurable object,
and the negative is directed from the corresponding
pain. Thus 4 Desiderium ' may be a longing for popu-
larity ; and if so, ' Fuga ' will be a shrinking from the
opposite pain, c unpopularity/ But if ' Audacia ' be
boldness in pursuit of that fame which is to be acquired
by confronting danger, * Desperatio ' will be despair of
any such fame.
211
SECTION III.
On the Relation between Will and Sensitive Appetite.
100. Whenever a passion exists, accompanied by a
thought of the pleasurable or painful object, then if no
special effort be put forth, a corresponding act of the
will is also elicited. You will at once observe the
qualification, ' accompanied by a thought of the object.'
For emotions, as we have seen, frequently exist, without
our thinking in any way of the object which produces
them;* but no act of the will (as we shall see clearly
in due time) can ever be elicited without an accompany-
ing thought. And now to explain my general meaning,
in the statement which I just made.
I am by nature very susceptible of pleasure, from
being generally liked ; yet in fact I am but little known,
and not particularly attractive to those who do know
me. Under these circumstances, the thought of popu-
larity arises in my mind. Forthwith the emotion of c I)e-
siderium ' is excited ; that longing, yearning, emotion,
which we all so well know by experience. I make no
effort whatever to interfere with the spontaneous course
of mental phenomena ; but allow my mind to pursue its
natural course. Under these circumstances, I shall
find on examination, that the first modification of the
soul, which we call the passion ' Desiderium,' has been
immediately succeeded by another. This second modi-
fication is an act of the will : and it is truly analysed
in some such way as the following; c I would go through
a good deal, in order to obtain popularity ;' or ' my will
cleaves to the absent pleasure of popularity, with a con-
siderable degree of efficacity.'
* The two cases in which this may happen are enumerated at the close
of 11. 96.
212 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
That this is in truth a second modification of the
soul, and quite distinct from the former, — would be
quite evident, were it only for the following reason. I
have the power, as we shall soon see, to separate the
two in fact; by putting forth an effort, I can prevent
the act of will from following the emotion. But
even if this were not the case, I have still the strongest
grounds possible for recognizing the two as distinct;
viz. a careful examination of my own consciousness.
In this branch of philosophy, it is simply unmeaning to
ask for any proof of a statement, except simply this :
all that a teacher can do, is to lead you (as best he
may) to fix your attention, each for himself, on those
particular facts of experience, of which he may wish to
obtain the recognition. Now a very little of careful
self-inspection will sufficiently shew us, how totally
distinct are these two things; viz. (1) an emotion, and
(2) an act of the will. 'I am in high spirits' or 'in
grief ; ' ' I feel this pleasure ' or 4 that pain ;' ' I am in
violent alarm at that danger' or ' I am yearning for that
enjoyment ;' — those various modifications of the soul,
which are thus truly analysed, are emotions; and apper-
tain to the sensitive appetite. On the other hand, ' I
am resolved on this,' 4 1 choose that,' c I intend the
other with this or that degree of efficacity' — those
modifications of the soul, which are thus truly analysed,
appertain to the will.
It is important, in a degree which it is impossible to
exaggerate, that we should be most familiarly con-
versant with this distinction, between the will and
sensitive appetite. We will therefore enlarge on this
part of our subject more than would otherwise be
necessary, simply for this purpose; viz. that we may
obtain of it the fullest and most familiar grasp.
101. Whenever an act of will follows any emotion
in the way which we have described, the will is said to
consent to that emotion ; and the act or affection of the
will has commonly the same name with the passion
itself. Thus the act of will already mentioned, — c I
cleave to the absent pleasure of popularity with such or
RELATION BETWEEN WILL AND SENSITIVE APPETITE. 213
such a degree of efficacity ' — this is called an act of
* Desiderium ;' or more fully, of 'Desiderium voluntatis.'
I may here add, that an ' act of the will,' and an
4 affection of the will,' are in Theology precisely equi-
valent. On the other hand, a ^disposition of the will' is
more commonly used, and by me will always be used,
not to express a present act, but a tendency or pro-
clivity; such as is generated by habit. Further, those
acts or affections of the will, which correspond with
the passions in the way we have described, may be
called perhaps 4 modal affections ;' though I have not
found them called by that, or indeed by any other,
generic name.
102. Let us now go through some more of the
passions, and see what the corresponding acts of the
will will be. Thus the passion ' Spes ' (let us suppose)
is experienced in regard to the pleasure of popularity ; I
think of popularity as attainable, and a lively emotion of
Hope ensues. Well — I put forth no special effort; and
we ask what then will be the corresponding act of my
will? The intellect, as we have seen, proposes the
pleasure of popularity, as absent indeed, but practically
attainable ; the act of will then must be, ' I cleave to that
pleasure, so proposed, with such a degree of efficacity.'
Next take * Audacia.' I think of the fame which I
may acquire by confronting danger ; and my spirits rise
high and swell for the encounter. Here is the passion
'Audacia.' What will be the corresponding act of will
— the ' Audacia voluntatis ?' The intellect proposes to
me this pleasure of fame, as attainable by these arduous
means ; and my will cleaves to that 'bonum,' so proposed,
with a degree of efficacity, sufficient (so long as it con-
tinues undiminished) to carry me through no small
amount of trial and adventure.
Lastly, l Delectatio.' I have at length gained that
popularity which I so longed for ; and my spirits
dance, my heart beats with rapture, accordingly. Here
is the passion 'Delectatio.' What will be the corre-
sponding act of will ? My intellect presents to me my
popularity, as at length existing ; and my will elicits an
214 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
act, of which the true analysis is the following ; 4 1
would endure many evils rather than lose this popu-
larity at last acquired ; ' or c I cleave to the thought of
popularity, thus presented to me as existing, with such
or such a degree of efficacity.' This affection of the
will however is commonly called c Gaudium ' and not
' Delectatio.'
I might in like manner go through the other ' modal
affections ;' c Odium voluntatis,' ' Fuga voluntatis,' c Timor
voluntatis,' 'Desperatio voluntatis,' 'Tristitia voluntatis,'
and the rest. But after what has been said, you will
find no possible difficulty in explaining their various
significations.
In illustration of these remarks on the * modal affec-
tions ' of the will, three condemned propositions may be
quoted : for these propositions contain mention of three
modal affections; viz. ' Tristitia,' 'Gaudium,' and 4De-
siderium.'
Si cum debita moderatione facias, potes absque
peccato mortali de vita alicujus tristari, et de illius
morte natural! gaudere ; illam inefficaci affectu
petere et desiderare ; non quidem ex displicentia
personse, sed ob aliquod temporale emolumentum.
Licitum est absolute desiderio cupere mortem
patris, non quidem ut malum patris, sed ut bonum
cupientis ; quia nimirum ei obventura est pinguis
hsereditas.
Licitum est filio gaudere de parricidio
parentis, a se in ebrietate perpetrate, propter
ingentes divitias inde ex hsereditate consecutas.
(Denz., prop. 13-15, p. 325.)
It is hardly necessary to say, that the ' gaudere,'
e. g. in the first of these propositions, does not refer to
the passion ' Delectatio,' but to that affection of the will
RELATION BETWEEN WILL AND SENSITIVE APPETITE. 215
which we call ' Gaudium.' There is a certain act of
will, which the condemned writer declares is no mortal
sin, and is condemned for so declaring. What is that
act ? It would be elicited thus : ( 1 ) my intellect would
represent to me the death of such a person, as beneficial
for the sake of some temporal gain; and (2) my will
would simply and absolutely cleave to the object thus
represented. My act might be truly analysed thus;
4 1 would choose, had I the power, that this man should
have died, rather than that I should lose the temporal
gain.' Any act, different from this, is not the 'gaudere'
spoken of in the proposition. And a precisely similar
analysis may be applied, to those other modal affections,
4 Tristitia' and ' Desiderium,' which are spoken of in
the three propositions.
Let us now take a few rather more complicated
cases ; where both propensions and passions are to be
considered. Thus (1) what is meant by the will con-
senting to an emotion of Envy? or, in other words, what
is 'Invidia voluntatis ?' The emotion of Envy is the
passion * Desiderium/ directed towards some certain
pleasurable object. What is precisely that object?
Clearly, the bringing down A. B. somewhat more
nearly to my own level. The emotion of Envy is a
longing desire for the attainment of this pleasure.
That act of the will then, which is rightly called * In-
vidia voluntatis, ' may be thus analysed ; 4 1 would
gladly choose, if I could, that A. B. should be brought
down more nearly to my own level.' Or again : ' My
will cleaves with such a degree of efficacity to the
pleasure, which my intellect represents to me as
imaginable, of knowing that A. B. were brought down
more nearly to my own level.'
What will be 'consent to the emotions of ill-
humour,1 or c ill-humour of the will?' We must here
consider in the first place, what are precisely emotions
of ill-humour ; a question perhaps not quite so easy, as
it appears on the surface. The phenomena of ill-
humour, we may suppose, are such as the following. I
rise up in a trying state of health, such as makes every-
thing appear through an unpleasant medium ; I feel in
216 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
fact restless and uncomfortable. Or again, little things go
provokingly wrong; I am just too late for the train, and
have to wait two hours for another, with nothing to do ; or
the like. I receive the monstrous practical impression,*
that I am shamefully injured; and I consequently long
for retaliation. This state of mind leads me to feel, as
though every one I meet were a partaker in inflicting
this injury. The mere sight of a happy face is a suffi-
cient excitement for wrath : ' How unfeeling towards
me ! what a disregard to my feelings is displayed in
the fact, that this man should be happy, when I have
received such a trying annoyance ! ' In fact, I long to
relieve my uneasiness, by making every one I meet
uncomfortable so far as I dare. In one word then,
perhaps the emotions of ill-humour consist of the sour,
angry, desire which I experience (while the ill-humour
lasts) of inflicting small annoyance on every one I meet;
and again, of the pleasure which I feel in actually doing
so : all under the monstrous practical impression, that
they have in some way injured me. By consent to these
emotions, we express those acts of the will, which must
invariably be found in their company, unless I exert
myself to prevent such a result. It will consist therefore
of such acts as the following. ' I would annoy A. B.
in such a way if I could.' 1 1 choose to make C. D.
uncomfortable in such another way.' ' The thought of
the small disaster, which E. F. is now experiencing, is
a pleasurable thought ; my will cleaves to the pleasure,
thus proposed, with such a degree of efficacity.' All
these acts being elicited, under the practical impression,
that A. B. and C. D. and E. F. are in a conspiracy to
treat me with neglect or contumely.
It is so very important rightly to grasp this dis-
tinction between emotions and volitions, that I will
give yet another instance for practice. Let us con-
sider then, what is that act of the will, which we may
call a murmuring against God's Providence. And
here, as before, let us first consider the emotion itself.
* The precise nature of this difference, between a practical impression
and a speculative opinion, will be considered later ; but the general meaning
of my statement is (I hope) sufficiently obvious.
RELATION BETWEEN WILL AND SENSITIVE APPETITE. 217
No two emotions are more distinct from each other,
than the two following. On the one hand, there is
a loving and submissive desire that God may in some
respects change the course of His Providence ; save me
from this or that temptation, from this or that calamity ;
or avert from His Church this or that impending evil.
On the other hand, there is that emotion which we all
know so well, — the repining and murmuring against
God's appointments. From the first of these proceeds
that loving spirit of prayer, which is always so welcome
a sound to Almighty God, and which He often very
signally rewards; but from the last (if unresisted) no-
thing issues, except sin of various kinds. I suppose
that the acts of will corresponding to these two emo-
tions,— and which will necessarily be elicited in their
company unless we exert ourselves to prevent it, — may
be thus respectively analysed. Act 1. ' I would choose
* this course of events rather than that, had I the power,
' if God fully approved such a change.'' Act 2. ' Even
' though God continued to approve the present course
' of events, yet I would most certainly choose another,
4 had I the power.' In the former act, the intellect
proposes the object to the will, as only desirable under
the condition of God's Approval ; in the latter case such
condition is wholly absent. It is the latter act, I need
not say, and not the former, which is an act of dis-
content with God's Providence.
103. These will suffice as mere instances of the
sympathy between will and sensitive appetite. But
there is one particular case, which, on its own account,
and not as a mere illustration, demands our direct and
most careful attention.
The first remark which I wish here to make is the
following. If my will cleaves to a pleasurable object
as such, it is not for its own sake, but for the sake of
the pleasure of possessing it, that we make it our
choice. This is, in fact, a mere tautology; a simple
truism. I choose then these pleasurable objects, for
the sake of possessing them in their appropriate
manner ; in the case of non - physical propensions
218 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
(see n. 93), for the sake of believing that they exist;
in the case of physical propensions, for the sake of
some closer contact. In the case then of non-phy-
sical propensions, that very statement, which we have
just seen to be a mere truism, almost assumes the form
of paradox ; yet of course it is literally true. Why do
I, who yield myself up to vain-glory, seek popularity?
That I may have pleasure from it. How do I derive
pleasure from it? by thinking that it exists, and dwell-
ing on that thought. The very end then, which the
vain-glorious man has in view when he seeks popu-
larity, is not that he may be popular, but that he may
think himself so. It is immensely easier to think him-
self popular if he is so, than if he is not ; and for that
reason alone he seeks popularity.
I now proceed to a further remark. We have
already seen, that in the case of every propension, there
are two different delights; Delight of possession, and
Delight of imagination — 'Delectatio apprehensiva ' and
* Delectatio imaginativa.' (See n. 96.) Take first De-
light of possession. The vindictive savage, who has his
enemy under his power, orders the most exquisite tor-
ments to be inflicted ; and gloats, though at a distance,
over the thought, that this or that part of his command
is being at this moment executed. Here we have de-
light of possession, exercised on that pleasurable object
* vindictive retribution.' The will, as we have seen,
by not specially exerting itself on the occasion, elicits
of course a corresponding act; called however, as I
stated, an act not of ' Delectatio,' but of ' Gaudium.'
' I cleave, with such a degree of efficacity, to that
pleasure which is derived from the thought, that my
enemy at this moment is being tormented.' The more
he thinks of this fact, that his enemy is being tor-
mented,— the more keenly he derives from it that very
pleasure, which was the end he aimed at in bringing
that fact to pass.
But now, secondly, suppose I am such a savage,
and that my enemy is dead or is otherwise out of my
reach; still I may enjoy a subordinate and secondary
RELATION BETWEEN WILL AND SENSITIVE APPETITE. 219
pleasure. I may fancy him at my mercy ; I may de-
light in the visionary conception, that I am inflicting
the most exquisite torments ; I paint to myself the ex-
pression of anguish, exhibited in his countenance; I
fancy him appealing for mercy, and I fancy myself an-
swering every such appeal by a fresh insult and a fresh
wound. Now, suppose my soul puts forth no special
effort — suppose, in other words, my will consents to this
emotion — what would the act of will be called, which in-
evitably ensues ? You see, my sensitive appetite here is
not soliciting me at all to any resolve; it is not solicit-
ing me, e.g. to meditate any future plan of vengeance.
If such were the emotion, it would be c Desiderium,' a
painful passion ; * Oh, that I could punish my enemy ! '
Whereas this is 4 Delectatio ; ' a self-satisfied passion ; a
passion which desires nothing at all, unless it be its
own continuance. The will's consent therefore will
be simply an act of this kind ; c I choose the continuance
4 of the thoughts which I am now eliciting, because of
4 the pleasurable emotion which I thence derive :' or in
other words, ' my will cleaves, with such a degree of
c efficacity, to the pleasure which I am now experi-
' encing.' Yet this is not a case of c Gaudium ;* for
' Gaudium ' is the will's consent to ' Delectatio appre-
hensiva.J ' Gaudium ' was analyzed in our very last
paragraph, where we were supposing a real vengeance
inflicted. What then is the theological phrase for the
phenomenon we are now considering — the will's con-
sent to ' Delectatio imaginativa ? ' Where the act of
consent (as in the supposed case) is sinful, it goes by
the name ' Morose Delectation ; ' otherwise it has no
special name.
You may be surprised perhaps at the length to
which I have gone, in this picture of the vindictive
man. My reason is the extremely important part
(alas!) held among sins, by this one of Morose Delec-
tation, in matters of impurity. I could not go fully
into particulars under that particular head; and yet I
wished you clearly to understand the nature of the
sin. In fact its consideration is an absolutely indis-
220 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
pensable part of the subject which we are treating ;
viz. the relation which exists between will and sen-
sitive appetite.
After all that has been said in this Section, you
will naturally ask ; * Supposing some emotion to be
' experienced which solicits to sin, — what is the most
4 available way for us to avert the will's consent and
4 avoid sin ? ' This question will very shortly come
before us, in detail and at length.
104. Before leaving however this earlier part of
our subject, one final remark should be made. We
have seen that whenever the pleasurable object is
thought of, and no special resistance is put forth, every
emotion of the sensitive appetite is invariably accom-
panied by a corresponding modal affection of the will.
But the converse by no means follows; and this is
carefully to be observed. Acts of the will are frequently
enough elicited, without any corresponding emotions
at all. Thus (to take a trivial instance), if I have
been accidentally rude to a man, I say very naturally
*I am extremely sorry for what I have done.' I don't
mean by this, that I experience the passion ' Tristitia;'
that I am at all out of spirits ; that which I elicit, is
simply the 4 Dolor voluntatis.' My intellect represents
to me the alternative of not having been guilty of this
rudeness, as a very desirable alternative ; and my will
cleaves to the alternative, so represented, with this or
that degree of efficacity. In like manner (to go from
the least important to the most important instance) the
4 Dolor,' required for Absolution, is not depression of
spirits, even the very slightest. My intellect repre-
sents the having offended God as a present evil ; it
represents simultaneously the alternative of being free
from that present evil, as a very desirable alternative.
My will cleaves to that alternative, so represented,
with this or that degree of efficacity. All this you
will understand far more fully, when we come to that
extremely important subject, the relation between
intellect and will.
This statement then is undoubtedly true, and very
RELATION BETWEEN WILL AND SENSITIVE APPETITE. 221
important ; viz. that there are often acts of the will, with-
out any corresponding emotions. Yet this very fact,
undoubted as it is, is often most unduly pressed, and
made the occasion of great self-deceit. Suppose I hear
the lowest principles of life deliberately advocated ; or
I hear of acts wantonly done, most grossly injurious
to the cause of God; — and suppose, in hearing such
things, I experience no emotion at all of holy resent-
ment. Well, it may be that I am none the less eliciting
most efficacious acts of the will ; that I am prepared
at this moment to go through indefinite labour and
exertion, if by such means I could avert those outrages
against God's Majesty. I say, it may be so ; but how
probable is it that it is so ? How should we judge of
such probability, in any case where God is not thus
directly concerned? If my mother for instance were
grossly libelled, and I experienced no emotion what-
ever,— how far would you think it probable that my
will is eliciting most efficacious acts of love towards
her and zeal for her good fame? It is of course just
as probable in one case as in the other.
I remember that I was once venturing to express
an opinion, how odious and despicable is the character
of those, who are content with avoiding Hell (as they
hope) for themselves, and have no generous regard
for God's interests, no zeal for promoting His general
service. An objector replied; * Oh, all that is a mere
' matter of sensitive emotion ; men have no controul
' over that; it is most unjust to blame them for being
' without it.' The reply is obvious. Shew us men,
of whom you will seriously state, that their will
is most efficaciously directed to such ends ; — that
they are prepared to sacrifice this or that most im-
portant part of their worldly interest, in order that
God may be the more honoured and served. Let this
fact be admitted in regard to them, and the further
fact, of their being destitute of sensitive emotion in
the same direction, will but increase our admira-
tion. Noble, heroic, souls, under the fearful chastise-
ment of aridity ! Surely the fact is, that in most cases,
222 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
with these cold-hearted men, there seems but little sign
of their will being in any degree more fervent than
their emotions.
It is true no doubt, that some emotions are far more
wayward and capricious than others in their visitation ;
and something will be said on this subject in our theo-
logical work. A man, e. g. may be interior, mortified
and unworldly, who yet, from time to time, will think
of his Saviour's sufferings with little or no sensible
compassion. Yet if this were anything like a per-
manent habit, it would surely be a clamorous warning
for him, to enter carefully into himself and see how
things stand. It is very possible, that there is no fault
of his in the matter ; but the presumption would be all
the other way. And this the rather, because (accord-
ing to the common opinion) none but Saints are ordi-
narily visited with long-continued and enduring aridity.
And the same principle holds, on the grief involved in
repentance of our sins. If we find, — not sometimes
and exceptionally, but always and habitually, — that
the reflection on our past sins produces no emotion of
grief, — it may be without fault of ours ; and our ' Dolor
voluntatis ' may be very genuine : but we should care-
fully look into the question, and see if it really be so.
105. So much on the relation, between the passions
and the modal affections of will. Now the questions of
liberty and sinfulness cannot be considered in detail,
till we come to our theological work ; but it is very
plain, and has been implied throughout, that no
emotions can possibly be in themselves sinful, because
they are not in our own power. On the other hand,
those acts of will, which follow in the wake of such
emotions, are very often sins ; and in that case the
emotions themselves become temptations. Yet there
are some acts of the will which so far resemble
emotions; viz. that they cannot be sinful, because the
will has no power of withholding them. This shall
be our next matter of consideration.
It is a remarkable fact in the constitution of our
nature, that the action of our sensitive appetite
RELATION BETWEEN WILL AND SENSITIVE APPETITE. 223
greatly anticipates that of our will. My whole emo-
tions are on fire, before my will has any real power
of interfering in the matter ever so slightly. These
first movements of the sensitive appetite last an ex-
tremely small portion of time; as we may say, for a
single instant : and they are called ' motus primo-
primi.' The scholastics are in the habit of saying,
that in that single instant ' voluntas attrahitur quasi
natura;' the will is drawn down by the sensitive
appetite, like a piece of inanimate matter. Though
you were the greatest of Saints, and though that
emotion were the foulest of temptations, in that brief
instant your will most unreservedly consents: most
unreservedly, and yet necessarily (not freely) and so
without culpability. Then follow a further number of
instants, during which the emotions are called ' motus
secundo - primi ;' when the will has some little power
to resist, but has no opportunity for collecting its full
powers. In no case, as we shall afterwards see, can
consent to the f motus secundo-primi ' exceed venial
sin, however grave be the matter in which temptation
takes place.
Bellarmine very ingeniously draws out this whole
doctrine, from St. James, c. i. v. 14, 15. " Every one
" is tempted," says the Apostle, " being drawn away
" and enticed by his Concupiscence :" here, says Bellar-
mine, is consent to ' motus primo-primi.' " But Con-
cupiscence conceives and brings forth sin : " here is
consent to the ' motus secund6-primi,' which is venial
sin. " And sin when consummated brings forth death :"
here the Apostle represents that consent as become
complete and consummated ; as become perfectly de-
liberate; and so as bringing forth death, or becoming
mortal*
* Accedat his testinionium S. Jacob! Apostoli, qui in 1 cap. v. 14, 15.
suae epistolee, distinguit tentationem a peccato, et peccatum a crimine :
' Unusquisque,' inquit, * tentatur a Concupiscentia sua abstractus et illectus.
* Concupiscentia verd, cum conceperit, parit peccatum ; peccatum verd cum
' consummatum fuerit, generat mortem.' Ubi S. Jacobus non distinguit
motus concupiscentise in involuntarium et voluntarium ; nee dicit, omnem
motum voluntarium esse peccatum mortale, omnem involuntarium esse
224 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
106. It will be very useful to use a phrase, when
speaking of intellect and will, parallel to that which
we have just been considering ; and to speak of
' actus primd-primi ' and ' secundo-primi.' By c actus
primd-primi' then, we will designate those acts,
which come as it were upon the intellect or will (as a
heathen would say) by mere chance; those which the
faculty elicits, before the will has the slightest power
of interfering. By c actus secundo-primi' we will
designate those acts which the faculty elicits, before
the will has opportunity of putting forth its full
power.
107. Having now then mentioned those cases, where
the will has either no power whatever, or very in-
sufficient power, of resisting the sensitive appetite,—
let us finally consider by what means the will can
resist, when it has arrived at the period of mature
deliberation. This question is far most commonly met
with in a somewhat narrower form ; viz. Avhat power
has the will of resisting temptation ? And as this is
not only the more common form but immeasurably
the more important, I will treat the question at length,
under that particular point of view. We shall be
afterwards able, with great ease, so to state the prin-
ciples we shall have evolved, that they shall be
applicable to the whole general question above stated.
Aristotle has stated an extremely important psycho-
logical fact, when he says that the will governs other
parts of us ' despotically ;' but that it governs the
veniale, ut Philippus Melancthon voluisset ; sed distinguit tres motus Con-
cupiscentise. Unum involuntarium, quo quis ad peccatum incitatur, sine
ullo suo consensu ; cum ait : ' Unusquisque tentatur a concupiscentia sua
' abstractus et illectus.' Et tune motum non dicit Apostolus esse pec-
catum, sed causam peccati ; si nimirum accedat consensus. Alterum motum
vult esse imperfecte voluntarium, cum addit, ' Concupiscentia verb, cum
1 conceperit, parit peccatum.' Esse autem hunc motum imperfecte volun-
tarium, et proinde peccatum, sed veniale, patet, quia nominatur peccatum,
et tamen distinguitur a peccato consummate et mortem generante. Ex
quo intelligimus, hunc secundum motum non esse peccatum consummatum ;
nee generare mortem ; ac per hoc non esse peccatum mortale. Tertium
denique adjungit perfecte voluntarium : et hunc motum esse peccatum
mortale declarat Apostolus, dicens, ' Peccatum verb, cum consummatum
fuerit, generat mortem.' — BELLARMINE, De Amiss. Grat. lib. i. cap. 9. n. 12.
RELATION BETWEEN WILL AND SENSITIVE APPETITE. 225
sensitive appetite ' politically.' Let us draw out the
meaning of this statement.
First then, in regard to every other part of our
soul and body, the will governs, either despotically or
not at all. If I say 'hand, move up;' ' finger, move
down ; ' ' foot, walk ; ' the result straightway ensues.
If I say, 4 intellect, turn yourself from thinking on ma-
* thematical subjects, to dwelling on this parliamentary
' speech;' — so long as I continue the command, the
desired act also continues. On the other hand, if I
say, ' body, become thin ;' or ' hair, grow more quickly ;'
or ' stomach, digest more agreeably ; ' no result ensues
of any kind. Or if, without having studied mathe-
matics, I say, ' intellect, contemplate the properties of
4 conic sections; ' — again no result ensues. In all these
cases, you see, the will either commands despotically,
or commands not at all.
What is the difference between despotical and poli-
tical government? Without attempting complete pre-
cision, it may be said perhaps that the distinction turns,
rather on the character and circumstances of the people,
than on the form of government. If the people are
barbarians, trained to be mere passive tools in their go-
vernors' hand, the government is despotic ; otherwise it
is political. The difference which we mean to express
is of the following kind. If a despot once obtains a
clear view, that such a measure is important for the
well-being of his country, — nothing remains, but to
enact that measure and execute it. How different with
a ' political ' sovereign ! He sees clearly that a measure
is very good and important ; but it will shock public
opinion. c I must exercise management here,' he says ;
' I must conceal my ultimate projects ; I must veil what
4 I do under an acceptable appearance ; nay, I must
4 cease from attempting what is best, that I may secure
4 what is practicable.' Or to go in my illustrations, from
one extreme of human life to another, look at the angler
who has hooked a large fish. His power over it is
4 political ' and not despotic. If he tries by main force
to land him, the line will break and the fish escape
Q
226 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
altogether. Yet he has a very real power over the fish,
if he will only understand that it is ' political.' He
draws the fish quietly backward and forward, till its
strength is exhausted ; if it struggles a good deal for
deliverance, he allows it a little free play for a few
moments, and then begins again. At length his efforts
are crowned with success, and the fish is safely depo-
sited in his basket.
Now this is a model for the fit way of dealing with
our sensitive appetite, when we wish to controul it.
I am frantic with an emotion of rage, at some stinging
insult which I have received. By help of prayer
indeed and God's answering grace, I keep my will most
firmly fixed in the right direction ; but can I compel
my inflamed passions to be suddenly cool ? can I say,
' violent emotions, cease and leave me to repose?' I
might as profitaJDly address my command to the
swelling and raging ocean. Am I powerless then in
quelling the storm ? Very far indeed from it ; I may
govern it to a very great extent, if I will only be
content to do so ' politically.' For instance, I fix my
thoughts in a careful and sustained way on the fact,
how immeasurably fouler and baser are those outrages
which God has received at my hand, than are any
which I have been called on to endure. Or I think
of the very many extenuating circumstances attending
the injury I have received. Or I think how far more
deserving of pity than of anger, is the poor man who
has inflicted on me this blow. And so, in the very
process of such thoughts, a gradual change takes place
in my emotions ; my sensitive appetite comes into
harmony with my will ; and God remains master of
the whole field.
This being understood, I proceed to answer the
question before us, In every case, as we have seen,
the will consents to the emotion, if it elicit one par-
ticular act: strictly speaking therefore, it resists, if
instead of that one act it elicits any other act whatever.
Thus it often happens, as St. Augustine says, that
4 vitia vitiis vincuntur;' a temptation to sloth, e.g. is
RELATION BETWEEN WILL AND SENSITIVE APPETITE. 227
overcome on the motive of avarice. Yet in the or-
dinary theological sense we are not said to resist
temptation, unless we elicit some virtuous, or at least
indifferent act, in place of that sinful act to which the
temptation solicits.
What kind of act we may in each particular case
most profitably choose, is a matter of spiritual pru-
dence ; and to decide it is an important portion of the
ascetical art. But more commonly, I suppose, it is
better to fix our own mind on thoughts of the most
opposite character. So, if we are suffering under
strong emotions of ill-humour (see n. 102), a very
good way of resistance will be, to work particularly at
doing good turns to the various persons on whom our
ill-humour seeks to vent itself; or if we have no
opportunity for that, wishing them definite blessings.
Under an emotion of envy, it may be well to pray
earnestly that this or that definite good may befall the
object of our envy ; and to do what may lie in our
power, towards promoting that good. Under the tempt-
ation of vain-glory, it will always be useful to ponder
carefully and in fullest detail, on various circumstances
in my past life, under which I have cut a most con-
temptible figure ; nay sometimes perhaps to pray for
still further humiliations. If the emotion be of pride,
let me dwell on some fact of my life so humiliating,
that I should be crushed at the very thought of the
world knowing it; in order that I may sufficiently
taste my own contemptibleness. Yet, though this is
perhaps the more common rule, there may be occa-
sions often enough, when we shall act more prudently
in turning our thoughts to matters altogether hetero-
geneous ; to mathematical studies, or to a game at
cricket.
But this truth also must be carefully observed. We
may be really and truly refusing our consent to the
emotion, while we are taking no steps whatever to-
wards diminishing or subduing it. This is evident on
the surface, from what has been said. So long as my
will refuses to elicit that act to which the temptation
228 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
solicits it, so long I am resisting the temptation. Here
then again is a question of spiritual prudence. Gene-
rally, no doubt, it is better to adopt measures of one
kind or another, towards removing the dangerous emo-
tion altogether ; yet, sometimes we shall do more
wisely, in despising it (as it were) and leaving it to
itself. So long as the emotion be not accompanied
with the thought of an evil object, no effort at all will
be necessary (as we have seen)* to prevent the will's
consent ; but even when the thought is present, much
less exertion is required for merely averting that con-
sent, than would be requisite if we attempted the
further task of subduing the emotion. And this very
question is often asked and thus answered in books of
Moral Theology. Thus, St. Alphonsus (de peccatis in
genere, c. i, n. 6,) enquires, * An peccet graviter qui
' negative se habet, et positive non resistit motui
4 appetitus sensitivi circa objectum sub mortali pro-
4 hibitum.' He takes for granted, either that there is
no thought of this mortally sinful object, and so (for
the moment) no temptation; or else, that at all events
the will is firm in refusing to elicit that act, to which
it is solicited. And, supposing this, he asks, whether
a man is further bound to aim at subduing the emotion
itself.
One thing however is evident, and has a very im-
portant bearing on the question immediately before us.
So long as the emotion remains unsubdued, there is a
constant and most imminent danger, of an evil thought
entering the mind, and of the active temptation thus
recurring. Suppose, e.g. the emotion be one of fiery
rage, occasioned by some galling insult. There is
most imminent danger, lest ' actus primo-primi ' of the
intellect make continual incursions, representing how
pleasurable it would be to punish our foe. If, in-
deed, we are faithful to grace, these thoughts, con-
stantly recurring, are constantly put away; but then,
perhaps, as constantly they return again. Under
a very violent emotion, there may be an almost un-
* (n. 100.)
RELATION BETWEEN WILL AND SENSITIVE APPETITE. 229
broken series of intellectual c actus primo-primi:' like
those curves of which we read in mathematics, abound-
ing in what are called conjugate points ; in other
words, made up to a great extent (as one may say) of
a number of points, which are infinite in number, and
yet no two of them exactly in contact with each other.
Nay, there may be an absolutely unbroken continuation
of foul images; specially where diabolical agency is at
work. The will, at every instant, is occupied in reject-
ing the intellectual ' actus-primo - primus ' of the
former instant, while suffering in this very new instant
from a fresh intellectual incursion. Such miserable
facts as these, often make it difficult for a holy man to
know, whether he is firmly resisting temptation; and
such facts accordingly have from time to time caused
most bitter anguish to the highest Saints. ' Viri timo-
rati ' are tempted to regard the very continuance of this
intellectual picture, as a proof that they have in some
degree consented ; whereas the fact has very probably
been, that they have been simply acquiring great trea-
sures of merit.
On the particular case then of resisting temptation,
the sum of our remarks will appear to be this : —
(1) In the great majority of cases^ it will be very
desirable to aim, by such ingenious devices as have
been illustrated at length, to subdue the emotion.
(2) The temptation, however, may be faithfully re-
sisted, without any attempt to subdue the emotion; if we
take pains to elicit some good or indifferent act at each
instant, in place of that evil act to which we are soli-
cited. (3) However highly inflamed be the emotion, —
so long as there is no thought of the evil object, there
is no present temptation; though we are in most im-
minent and momentary danger of temptation arising.
And on the more general question, of the will's
power to withstand the sensitive appetite, two pro-
positions will state all that is important.
(1.) At every moment the will possesses the phy-
sical power, of resisting those solicitations which arise
from the sensitive appetite; or in other words, of
230 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
putting forth some different act, from that to which
those solicitations invite him. The will possesses this
power, through its despotic government of the intellect;
by means of turning the thoughts, with an effort, into
this or that totally distinct direction. How far this power
is always a moral (as well as physical) power — as, for
instance, where the emotion is a strong temptation and
there is no recourse to prayer — this is quite a separate
consideration, and belongs to a much later portion of
our work. We have not yet treated on the difference
between moral and physical power; and (though we had
done so) the question just stated does not appertain to
the relation between will and sensitive appetite, but
turns rather on the intrinsic strength or weakness of
the will itself. There is no question of more vital im-
portance; but it does not find its fit place here.
(2.) To resist the solicitations of the sensitive
appetite is one thing; to aim at subduing those emo-
tions themselves, is quite a different and a further thing.
231
SECTION IV.
On Certain other Phenomena of the Will.
108. Here we close this series of enquiries, con-
cerning the relation which exists between will and
sensitive appetite. There are other enquiries, which
are even much more important, concerning the will's
relation to the intellect. But these are so indissolubly
mixed up with the great doctrine of Liberty, — and this
again with the most controverted portions of the
c Grace' treatise, — that we must defer their methodical
investigation till we enter on Theology. Several truths,
indeed, which are then to be fully and methodically
considered, will by necessity be partially implied and
taken for granted in the earlier part of the course ; as,
in fact, they have been already. But the full state-
ment and development of those truths must come later.
There are certain propositions however, in regard to
the will, over and above those treated in the last Section,
which even at this early stage require to be stated with
some degree of definitiveness and clearness. To do
this will be our purpose in this present Section.
The ' modal affections' of the will, ' Amor,' 4 Deside-
rium,1 and the rest, are comparatively seldom spoken
about, I think, eo nomine in Theology; except when
the relation between will and sensitive appetite is
being considered. Different phrases are commonly
used, whether to express the same or other phenomena;
such phrases I mean, as l Intentio finis,' ' Fruitio finis,'
'Electio mediorum.'
109. By 'Intentio finis' is signified something more
than c Amor finis;' it is more nearly analogous perhaps
to the modal affection c Spes.' The intellect proposes
the end, not merely as desirable, but as in some degree
232 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
* hie et mine' attainable. To the pursuit of this end,
the will cleaves with greater or less efficacity ; in
other words, I resolve at once to aim in some way or
other at some attainment of the desirable end. Then
comes * Electio mediorum ; ' out of the various means
conducive to that end, I choose this or that according
to my innate freedom. Lastly, so far as I succeed,
comes the ' Fruitio finis.' This, precisely and in every
respect, corresponds to the modal affection ' Gaudium.'
My intellect represents the pleasurable end, as in greater
or less degree attained; and my will cleaves to that
end, so represented, with greater or less efficacity. In
other words, I elicit an act of which this is the true
analysis ; c I would go through this or that amount of
* exertion, rather than lose this pleasure which I have
' thus attained.'
The whole of this statement, which we find in the
books, must be understood in a sense, not inconsistent
with the following undoubted fact. It happens again
and again, that it is the suggestion of media, which
changes the ''Amor finis' into an ''Intentio finis;' that
the thought of the means comes in fact first, and the
intention of the end is later. For instance, I am a very
vain-glorious man : so often therefore as I think of
popularity, I elicit a very energetic act of the will,
under the head 'Amor finis.' A particular means of
acquiring fresh popularity offers itself; the going up
to town, to speak at a public meeting in favour of some
popular question. Immediately I elicit an c intentio
finis;' a resolve to increase my popularity in the way
suggested : and I adopt the requisite means accordingly.
110. In order to attain my end, a connected chain
of means is often necessary. I live four miles from
a railway -station, and that station is eighty miles from
London. I walk to the railway, that I may be carried
to London. Here then (1) I walk to the railway, in
order that I may obtain the convenience of the train.
(2)1 desire the convenience of the train, that I may
more comfortably go to London. (3) I desire to go
to London, in order that I may attend a meeting which
ON CERTAIN OTHER PHENOMENA OF THE WILL. 233
will beheld there. (4) I desire to attend that meeting,
in order that I may be the more popular. (5) I desire
to be more popular, in order that I may think myself
so. (6) I desire to think myself so, because of the
great pleasure which that thought gives me.
In this connected chain of ends, the last named is that
which we call the ' absolute' end ; viz., ' that I may enjoy
the pleasure of thinking myself more popular/ The
other ends are 'relative' or l intermediate.' Instead of
'absolute end/ the phrase * ultimate end' is more com-
monly adopted ; but there is such very great variety of
usage, as to the sense of this phrase ' ultimus finis,' that
I must prefer ' absolute end.' I propose therefore uni-
versally to adopt that phrase.
On ' Fruitio finis' and * Electio mediorum,' nothing
more need be said ; but ' Intentio finis ' must be con-
sidered under some further aspects.
111. If I am really doing or resolving on A for the
sake of end B, I am at this moment desiring and in-
tending end B. This is so very obvious, that no
explanation or argument can make it more so. If I
am not at this moment desiring B at all, how can I be
resolving on A for its sake ? I may be desiring A ; but
my reason for doing so at this moment will be some-
thing else, and not my desire of B, if I am not desiring
B at this moment at all.*
It is most important however to observe, that I
may be most really desiring B, and yet not consciously
thinking of B. The full consideration of this most im-
portant fact, belongs of course to the general question
of the relation between intellect and will ; yet even at
this early stage, some general notion of what is meant
seems indispensable. "Take then the following hints,
from the illustration already given, where I am walking
to the next town to catch the train. Suppose a friend
* " Impossibile est aliquid actu appeti prout utile est, et noil ex volun-
tate aliqua quce actu maneat circa finem, saltern confuse apprehensum.
Quod si nee maneat voluntas finis confuse apprehensi, jam medium non
poterit appeti prout utile [sc. ut medium], sed quatenus honestum aut
jucundum seu aelectabile secundum se [sc, ut foiis]" — VASQOE^, in 1m 2ae,
d. 4, c. 2.
234 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
is with me, in whose conversation I am very greatly
interested. I will suppose that there are a great
number of different turns in the road, which I am
quite as often in the habit of taking, as that particular
route which leads to the town. My friend and myself
pursue our walk, quite engrossed in the interesting
matters which we are discussing ; and we are quite
surprised to find how quickly the time has passed, and
that here we are at the station. Now it is plain (com-
pletely as we seem to have been engrossed by our
conversation, little as we have explicitly been thinking
about town or railway,) that the intention of going to
the town has really and actively influenced us through-
out. How otherwise can you possibly account for the
fact, that we have steadily pursued that one road,
neglecting the innumerable turns which I have sup-
posed to exist? Will you say that the habit of going
to the town is enough to account for it? Not at all;
for I have supposed that there is none of the turns,
which I have not equally been in the habit of taking.
There must have been an intention, really inflowing
into my acts ; really, practically, energetically, in-
fluencing me; — and yet such, that I have not been
reflecting or thinking of it at all.
This unconscious intention may be very definite ;
or it may be vague to almost any imaginable extent.
In the above case evidently it is most definite. So
definitely are my intentions fixed on that particular
town, that in every single instance, — without so much
hesitation as would reinstate a conscious reflection on
what I am doing, — I choose, as a matter of course, the
one road thither leading, in preference to any other
alternative. But why do I wish to catch the railway
and go to town? It may well be that this consideration
is not at all definitely before my mind. It may well
be, that I am not definitely aiming at all at the pleasure
of popularity to be gained at the public meeting.
It may well be, that I have no more definite thought
of my motive for going to London, than that it is
for the sake of some end or other, vaguely remembered,
ON CERTAIN OTHER PHENOMENA OF THE WILL. 235
as having been thought by me pleasurable when I
formed the intention. But if this be so, then it is not
strictly true to say that I am at this moment desiring
to go to town for the sake of acquiring popularity-
The act, whereby, during my walk to the town, I desire
to reach the train, will be truly analyzed thus ; 'I
' desire to catch the train, for the sake of some end, of
' which I merely remember that I thought it pleasurable
' when last I distinctly thought of it at all.'
It will be in accordance with theological usage, if
we call the intention 'implicit7 while it remains (with*
out our thinking of it) in a <fe/£mfe shape ; and 'virtual7
when it is only the vague memory of it which continues.
Meanwhile we may keep the term ' unconscious ' in-
tention for the present, as a common term ; as including
both 'implicit' and 'virtual/
The statements of theologians on this subject will
be more suitably introduced, when we treat the subject
itself at length ; i. e. when we treat definitively the
relation between intellect and will. On the other
hand, the facts, here stated, have their appropriate evi-
dence of course in our own consciousness.
112. We have hitherto spoken, as though I aimed
but at one absolute end in the same instant. But this
is most rarely the case; and in general a considerable
number of absolute ends are simultaneously inflowing
into the Will. If 1 go to town, it will probably not be
merely for the sake of attending that meeting: there
will be some interesting matters to talk over with my
lawyer ; and some old friend to see, from whom I have
long been separated. Even when these are most
vaguely represented, my will will be aiming, not at
' one end' but at various ends ; of which I remember
that I thought them pleasurable, when I last distinctly
thought of them at all.
The common theological usage is to consider only
one absolute end as appertaining to one ' actus humanus.'
Hence in those very numerous cases where more than
one absolute end is influencing my will, as many dif-
ferent acts are considered to be simultaneously proceed-
236 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
ing, as there are different absolute ends. Suppose, e. g.
that I help a poor man, through a mixed motive of
virtuousness and vain-glory : it will be considered that
two acts of mine are simultaneously proceeding ; one
virtuous, the other vicious under the head of vain-glory.
113. You will at first be more than a little sur-
prised, at the notion that intellectual acts, so important
and so influential, can proceed in the mind with so little
reflection. This fact indeed is one of the most im-
portant in all Psychology ; and when we treat on the
relations of intellect and will, it must receive our most
careful attention.
This will be a convenient place for stating more
distinctly, that the phrase ' Intentio finis ' is used quite
as properly, in regard to a ' relative or intermediate' end,
as in regard to an ' absolute' end. Thus in the instance
of walking with a friend to catch the railway, the end
was merely ' relative or intermediate ; ' yet we have said
that the ' implicit intention ' of that end influenced me
throughout the walk.
114. We have considered hitherto two kinds of in-
tention, directed towards an end; 'explicit' and 'uncon-
scious.' There is a third kind very frequently met
with in Theology ; viz. c habitual.' The habitual in-
tention of an end which has once been proposed, is
considered to continue so long, as it is not explicitly or
implicitly revoked. Thus suppose a priest forms the
intention to-day, of offering all his masses for the next
mouth for some definite object. He thinks no more
about it ; the intention in no sense inflows further into
his acts, neither explicitly nor unconsciously ; but still
his 'habitual intention' is not on that account con-
sidered to cease. But suppose, at the end of a week,
totally forgetful of his former intention, he makes
the intention of offering all his masses of the next
week for a purpose altogether different. This is an
implicit revocation of his former intention ; because,
though he has lost all memory of that intention, the
latter intention is directly inconsistent with the former.
The former intention then is said to be implicitly re-
ON CERTAIN OTHER PHENOMENA OF THE WILL. 237
yoked ; the habitual intention is said no longer to remain.
The former intention may also of course be explicitly
revoked ; but this is too plain to need illustration.
Now this theological use of the word c habitual/ is
very different from that which ordinarily obtains. In
ordinary parlance, the phrase c habitual intention ' would
be considered as implying a far closer connection with
present action than it does in Theology. For instance,
I should naturally say c I have an habitual intention of
avoiding mortal sin;' but this would mean a great
deal more than, ' I once intended it, and have not since
intended the contrary.' It would mean nothing less
than this ; i so soon as I am for a moment tempted to
' mortal sin, that intention of avoiding it, which was
' latent, becomes apparent ; that which was dormant is
' roused into action.' Or consider, if it be not too light
an example, the kind of intention which I have to wind
up my watch at night. I should naturally call it an
'habitual intention;' yet plainly it is much more, than
that merely I once intended to do so, and have never
revoked that intention. As soon as the ordinary time
for the process arrives, by a sort of habit or instinct, the
actual intention is awakened, and the act succeeds as a
matter of course. Or take the kind of intention which
is engendered by any virtuous habit ; the habit of tem-
perance, for instance. Suppose that by long self-
discipline I have become temperate in a high degree.
Well, I am not eliciting acts of temperance all day
long; yet all day long I do possess a certain quality
of soul, in virtue of which, so soon as the opportunity
of temperance arises, — so soon as I sit down to table,
— various temperate intentions actually influence and
direct my will.
I think it is of great importance for various theologi-
cal purposes, that this particular kind of intention should
be carefully recognized ; and in order that it may be so
recognized, it will be far better to give it a separate
name. Let us call it therefore a i prevalent' intention.
I am said accordingly to have a 'prevalent' intention
of doing this or that, when I have no intention indeed
of the kind (explicitly or unconsciously) at this mo-
238 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
ment influencing my will; but when my soul is in
fact so constituted, (whether by nature or habit,) that
on the suitable occasion such an intention ivould quite
certainly and spontaneously arise. A ' prevalent inten-
tion ' then is, in fact, one particular species of * habitual '
intention ; but a species possessing many important pro-
perties of its own. A ' prevalent intention ' implies that
some certain quality exists at this moment in the will ; but
a ' merely habitual ' intention by no means implies this.
We had better (to prevent confusion of ideas), sum
up here, and place in one view the various subdivi-
sions of 'intention' which have been suggested. There
is at first starting a three-fold division; viz. into 'ex-
plicit/ 'unconscious,7 and ' habitual' intention. Then
' unconscious' is further subdivided into ' implicit' and
' virtual ; ' while ' habitual ' is also subdivided into
6 merely habitual' and 'prevalent/ Lastly, going back
to the original threefold division, 'real' includes both
'explicit' and 'unconscious,' as distinct from, 'habitual.'
115. I must not close for the present this matter of
intention, without begging you again carefully to dis-
tinguish 'Intentio' from 'Amor' or ' Desiderium.' 'In-
tentio' always implies (as we have already observed)
that we propose to aim at the end. Whenever our
will cleaves to the end as desirable, without any pur-
pose or notion of ourselves aiming at it, our act is
either one of 'Amor' or 'Desiderium.' Look, for in-
stance, at the two first, out of those three condemned
propositions already quoted in n. 102: —
Si cum debita moderatione facias, potes, absque
peccato mortali, de vita alicujus tristari, et de illius
morte naturali gaudere, illam inefficad affectu petere
et desiderare, non quidem ex displicentia personse,
sed ob aliquod temporale emolumentum.
Licitum est absolute desiderio cupere mortem
patris, non quidem ut malum patris, sed ut bonum
cupientis ; quia nimirum ei obventura est pinguis
hsereditas. — DENZ. prop. 13, 14, p. 325.
In the second of these occurs the phrase, 'absolute
ON CERTAIN OTHER PHENOMENA OF THE WILL. 239
desiderio cupere mortem patris.' The question is not
at all, in regard to the least thought of murdering his
father; but simply of his will cleaving to his father's
death, as to a desirable object. And, in the first propo-
sition, the words ' inefficaci affectu petere et desiderare '
do not refer at all to what is called 4 Intentio inefficax,'
but simply to 4 Desiderium ; ' as the very words shew.
The same remark applies to the ' absoluto desiderio
cupere' of the second proposition. On the other hand,
the distinction between ' Intentio efficax ' and ' ineffi-
cax ' cannot possibly be, that in the latter case we do
not aim at the end ; that ' Intentio inefficax' does not
ordinarily result in action ; for if it did not, it would not
be ' Intentio ' at all. No : the distinction between ' In-
tentio efficax ' and ' inefficax ' turns on the greater or
less degree of firmness or tenacity with which the will
resolves on aiming at the end. As this distinction is
one of no slight importance, I hope carefully to consider
it in our work c de actibus humanis.5
116. This will be a convenient place, for stating an-
other very important proposition in regard to the will.
This proposition is so obvious, when stated, that you
will wonder at me for taking the trouble to enunciate
such a truism ; and yet I hardly know one doctrine so
frequently neglected. It is this: — Good and bad acts
of the will are what they are, and not what we reflect
on them as being. Notwithstanding the obvious un-
deniableness of this proposition, I will add a few words
to explain its meaning.
In order that any act of the will may take place, a
certain object must be represented by the intellect, as
possessing this or that combination of qualities ; as in-
vested with these or those accompanying circumstances.
To the object, thus presented, the will freely tends in a
certain intrinsic mode; and thus the act is complete.
Many such acts take place, without the intellect re-
flecting on them in the slightest degree. But it often
happens that the case is otherwise; that the intellect
does reflect on the act itself, and analyzes it truly or
falsely as the case may be. My thesis is this : that the
240 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
act is what it is ; and that, supposing the intellect were
to analyze it ever so mistakenly, such an intellectual
error could in no possible way affect the real character
of the act itself.
Now the neglect of this very plain truth, often leads
us to think our acts better, and often worse, than they
really are. For instance, we desire to make acts of
faith, hope, and charity ; and many men unaffectedly
think, that if we have recited (with seriousness and
attention) the words put down for us in our prayer-
book, we have accomplished our end. I will give you
at once a * reductio ad absurdum ' of this most wild
misconception. It is theologically certain (as we shall
see in due time) that every sinner, even the foulest,
who elicits a real theological act of c Amor super omnia,'
is at once justified 4 extra sacramentum.' Now from the
notion which I am attacking, this strange result would
follow ; that the foulest sinner, who should with serious-
ness and attention recite the words put down in the
prayer-book for a theological act of love, would be
ipso facto justified without a moment's delay ; an
adopted son of God; an heir of Heaven. A short and
easy road indeed to that happy abode ! *
You will ask at once, what conditions are necessary,
* So the most lenient Francolinus — ' Peccatoribus, ut facile est ore
pronunciare formulam contritionis, ita perdifficile est vere et ex corde talem
actum facere.' De Dolore requisite, 1. 1, c. 1, n. 38. He draws attention
to the same distinction, in regard to attrition also, between reciting the due
formula and eliciting the due act. De Pcen. Disc., 1. 3, c. 3, sub finem.
Lugo, ' Quis certo scit veram fuisse contritionem quam habuit?' De
Pcenitentia, d. 7, n. 266. Turlot, ' Nolirn putes contritionis actum consistere
aut perfici verbis quibuqdam studiose conceptis; v. g. dicendo, ' Domine Deus
doleo,' &c sed in cordiali affectu sub ejusmodi verbis supposito.'
Catech., pars 4, c. 5, lee. 2. F. Vaubert, S. J., ' La premiere chose dont il
faut se garder, c'est de s'imaginer avoir fait un acte de foi ou d'esperance
ou de quelqu'autre vertu que ce soit, lorsqu'on en a prononce du bout des
tivres quelque formule, ou qu'on F a seulement repassee dans sa memoire.
II y a autant de difference entre un acte de vertu, et ces formules
qu'on sait par coeur ou qu'on lit dans les livres, qu'il y en a entre le roi et
son portrait? Traite de la Communion, par. 4, n. 2. Ripalda, *' jtEgre
potest homo discretionem facere rationum formalium qua ipsum movent ad
suos actus. Ego experiment© cerno id haud facile fieri.' De Ente Super.
d. 45, n. 13. Ripalda quotes Suarez to the same effect: 'Nunquam
homo scit evidenter, an ex pura supernaturali ratione moveatur et opere-
tur 1 ' De Gratid, 1. 2, c. 11, n. 35,
ON CERTAIN OTHER PHENOMENA OF THE WILL. 241
that our acts may really be acts of faith, hope, and
love.* It is impossible of course to exaggerate the im-
portance of this question; both that you may your-
selves elicit such acts, and that you may hereafter
teach your people how to do so. We shall consider it
therefore in its due place, with a care and completeness,
not disproportioned (I hope) to its most vital practical
moment.
So much on the case, where we think our acts
better than they really are. But we often think them
worse. A good man, again and again, elicits real acts
of faith, hope, and love, from the very depths of his
believing, hoping, and loving heart, without reflection
of any kind. And here non-theological men are con-
tinually apt to fancy, that these are not true acts of
faith, hope, and love at all. Having in the former case
said of an act, that it is what it is not; — here they begin
to say, that it is not what it is: just as if a lion were
not a lion, nor a tiger a tiger, unless ticketed and
labelled as they might be in a menagerie ! Among all
the various acts of love, which our Blessed Lady was
eliciting without intermission in via, I should like to
know how many she reflected upon or analyzed. Of
course, her thoughts were so absorbed in God, that she
had neither leisure nor inclination to turn, from the
thought of Him, to the thought of herself and her own
acts.
Our proposition, however, must be carefully guarded
against misconception. Any act of will depends of
course essentially, for its character, on that intellectual
act which preceded it; I am only saying, that it does
not depend for its character in the slightest degree on
any intellectual act which follows it. It depends, for its
character, essentially on the mode in which its object
was intellectually represented ; I am but saying that it
does not depend at «//, for its character, on any other in-
tellectual act, except this. Take two instances in illus-
* Acts of faith, being intellectual, might appear as not strictly in point :
but the ' pia affectio voluntatis' is of course an act of will ; and the act of
faith follows from that ' pia affectio ' as a matter of course.
R
242 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
tration. Suppose acts A and B are precisely similar, in
regard to the thing externally done ; for instance, eat-
ing meat on a Friday : but that they differ totally in
the preceding intellectual representation. In perform-
ing act A, I remembered the Church's prohibition ; but
in performing act B I totally forgot it. Or more gene-
rally, in one case the thing done was intellectually pro-
posed as sinful ; in the other case not. It is plain that
these two acts are as different from each other in cha-
racter, as any one act can well be from any other.
But now suppose (and it is the case contemplated
by the proposition we are considering) that you and I
both commit an act, which we perfectly knew at the
time we did it to be mortally sinful ; which, in both
cases, the intellect represented as such at the time of its
commission. You and I, however, are most different in
character and habits. You are a novice in sin ; and for
that very reason, the remembrance of what you have
done haunts you through the day. But for myself, I
am from long habit callous and obdurate; I am con-
stantly in the habit of doing things which I know to be
mortally sinful ; and the result is, since this particular
act had nothing specially to distinguish it from a hun-
dred others done in the day, that I have never reflected
on it for a moment, either as being sinful or otherwise.
It is obvious on the very surface, that this distinction
between you and me, a distinction wholly external to
the act, cannot by possibility be a ground for any dis-
tinction, between the respective character of these two
acts themselves*
117. We are now in a position to draw out the
various kinds of ' bonum.' To enter on the full mean-
* I am not here meaning to imply an opinion, that for mortal sin
it is always necessary, that the object should be explicitly proposed
by the intellect as sinful. This is a question much controverted in
the schools ; and my own opinion on it is, that in the case of obdurate
sinners such explicit proposition is not requisite for mortal sin. This
opinion I shall defend to the best of my power, in its proper theological
place, by such arguments as appear to me cogent. Still it must always
remain true, that an act, in which the object was not proposed by the intel-
lect as sinful, possesses a very important intrinsic difference from one in
which it was.
ON CERTAIN OTHER PHENOMENA OF THE WILL. 243
ing of the word 'bonum,' would lead us to philo-
sophical enquiries, which are important indeed, but
somewhat complicated. This is in no sense requisite,
for the sake of that part of Theology, to which our
present work is an introduction. We may answer
all our necessary purposes here, by defining 'bonum'
simply as * that at which the human will can aim.7
Of how many kinds then are 'bona?'
118. First, as we have already seen in many in-
stances, the human will can aim at pleasure; or in
other words, one class of 'bonuni' will be ' bonum
delectabile.' We may aim either at 'positive' or at
4 negative ' pleasure ; by 4 negative pleasure,' meaning
4 relief from pain.' Moreover we can pursue pleasure,
whether positive or negative, in two different stages;
we may pursue present or future pleasure. And now
to give examples of these different phenomena.
If I eat of some attractive dish, which I know will
make me ill next day, I am pursuing 4 present positive '
pleasure. If, when next day comes, I refuse to take
the medicine, which has been rendered necessary by
that indulgence, I again pursue present pleasure; but
here it is negative. If I rise early, and go to bed late,
and deny myself sufficient food and recreation, — all for
the purpose of amassing vast wealth, in order that I
may derive therefrom every kind of comfort and in-
dulgence— I am pursuing 'future positive' pleasure.
You will say perhaps, that the prospect of that future
pleasure is itself present pleasure. During great part
of my labour it is so ; but even then, a very little con-
sideration will shew that this accounts only for part of
my will's energy (see n. 112). One absolute end may
be the present pleasure of looking forward to future
wealth ; but another absolute end, quite as influential
or probably much more so, is the future pleasure,
which I consider as promoted by this present toil.
Indeed there are commonly periods, not inconsiderable
in duration, when the present pleasure quite ceases ;
periods which correspond, in the Devil's service, to
times of aridity in the service of God: during these
244 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
periods we are working exclusively for future positive
pleasure. Lastly, perhaps I work hard day and night,
to get up my defence in some trial, which threatens my
fortune or my life: in such case I am working for
future negative pleasure. So far indeed as I labour
for the purpose of appeasing my present emotion of
fear, so far no doubt I am pursuing a present negative
pleasure; but when this emotion of fear is for the
moment away, I am still able to work very energeti-
cally and consistently ; and I am thus pursuing l future
negative ' pleasure.
So we see that the human will can pursue bona
delectabilia in four different shapes: (1) present posi-
tive pleasure; (2) present negative pleasure; (3)
future positive pleasure; (4) future negative pleasure.
Again, we may further subdivide l bonum delec-
tabile,' according to the particular nature of that pro-
pension, to which any such ' bonum' respectively ap-
pertains. Some propensions, as we have seen, are
satisfied by our merely thinking that their object
exists ; others require a far closer contact (see n. 93).
Those * bona delectabilia ' which belong to the latter
class, we may call * bona physice delectabilia;' the rest
' mentaliter delectabilia.'
118. Secondly, we are able (in some degree at least)
to pursue virtuousness for its own sake; or in other
words, a second kind of 'bonum' will be 'bonum ho-
nestum.' This will be most evident by giving a few
instances.
Take that case of the deposit, which we had so
constantly before us in the last Chapter. Plainly I
have the full power of giving back my friend his jewel,
for no reason in the world, except simply because I am
under the obligation of doing so. Or if I have con-
tracted a small debt, the payment of which is in no way
inconvenient, I am fully able to make such payment
on demand, for no reason in the world except because
it would be dishonest to refuse.
Now take a further instance. Suppose I am as-
sailed by a violent temptation against the Sixth Com-
ON CERTAIN OTHER PHENOMENA OF THE WILL. 245
mandment; suppose all my emotions, the whole of my
sensitive nature, enlisted for the moment on the side
of sin. I kneel before a crucifix; and while praying
earnestly to my Saviour for help, I ponder at the same
time with so much earnestness on the baseness of re-
paying His bounteous love with ingratitude, that I am
sustained for a while against temptation simply by
this prayer and this thought. Presently perhaps, in
order to strengthen my resolution, I call before my
mind such further thoughts, as the fearfulness of Hell
suffering, and the various appalling torments which
would there await me ; and when I have done this, my
emotions no doubt are in some degree helping me on
the side of virtue. But let us confine our attention to
the earlier part of this resistance; to the part which
elapsed, before this appeal to sensitive fear. During
that earlier part, I was performing an admirable act,
under the head of purity : and for what end ? Simply
the virtuousness of shewing gratitude for my Re-
deemer's love. What other end can be named? It
was in no degree for the sake of any devotional sweet-
ness ; for my whole sensitive appetite was at the time
playing the Devil's game, and acting directly against
the cause of virtue. I repeat, the end was, and could
be, no other, than the virtuousness of shewing gratitude
for my Redeemer's love.
Here you may make the objection, that this act of
virtue was (1) supernatural and (2) rendered possible
only by prayer. As to its being supernatural, this plainly
does not affect the question. Reason shews us that
the act above described is good ; and experience shews
us that it may exist. These two truths are in no way
interfered with by a third truth ; viz. that this act is
not good only, but supernatural also. Indeed it may
be well here to state briefly a fact, on which, under the
head of Grace, we shall have to enlarge. God takes
care always to adjust His grace to the fixed and re^
cognized laws of our nature; according to that well-
known maxim of the schools, ' Gratia se accommodat
Naturae.' Why does He so act? Because the whole
246 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Christian religion is based on faith ; and if we could
experience the Supernatural, there would be no room
for faith.
Now for the second supposed objection: viz. that
the act was only rendered possible by prayer ; that
by prayer only was I able thus manfully to acquit
myself in the conflict ; that, had prayer (at least im-
plicit prayer) ceased, my will would soon have sur-
rendered to my bitter enemy. This fact undoubtedly
is an observed fact of human nature, and not known
merely by Revelation ; viz. that when I make use of
prayer, I am able to do ten thousand good acts, which
without prayer I could not do. No more important
fact than this can be named in all Psychology ; and it
is one, on which we shall lay the very greatest stress in
all our work. Still this fact in no way interferes with
our conclusion. It was a fact undoubtedly, that I was
praying ; but it was no less a fact, that I was eliciting a
most energetic act of purity, from the pure end of
gratitude to my Saviour.
You will ask, as I can aim simply at a future
4 bonum delectabile,' can I also aim simply at a future
4 bonum honestum?' The question is of some nicety,
and shall be treated under ' de actibus humanis.' But
it is of no practical importance ; for no act can be
virtuous, unless it be done for the sake of present
6 bonum honestum ;' for the sake of that virtuousness
which is inherent in the act itself. (See n. 56, p. 123.)
In the catalogue then of c bona,' we are fully
warranted in adding c honestum ' to ' delectabile.'
120. Before going further, it may be asked, can
there be an unconscious intention of ' bonum honestum,'
as we have seen there so often is of l bonum delectabile?'
A very little observation of what passes in our mind,
will shew that this is a most common phenomenon.
Perhaps the following illustration will help us in
making the necessary introspection.
Some fifty years ago, men of the world were in the
habit of using most foul and obscene language, in
conversation with each other ; yet they always thought
ON CERTAIN OTHER PHENOMENA OF THE WILL. 247
it most ungentlemanly to use such expressions in the
presence of ladies. I will suppose two gentlemen of
the period to be most busy in conversation with each
other, while ladies are present. They are wholly
engrossed, so far as they are themselves conscious,
with the subjects which they are upon ; politics, or the
stock-exchange, or sporting. They are not explicitly
thinking of the ladies at all ; and yet, if they are really
gentlemen, the presence of the ladies exercises upon
them a most real and practical influence. It is not
that they find themselves to fall into bad language, and
then apologize. No ; they are, during the whole time,
so restrained by the presence of the ladies, that they
don't dream of such expressions. Yet on the other
hand, no one will say, that the freedom of their thought
and conversation is perceptibly influenced at all.
If it be so common a thing to preserve an uncon-
scious remembrance of our fellow-men's presence, how
abundantly practicable must it be, to preserve a remem-
brance, precisely similar in kind, of our Creator ! And
interior men, by reflecting on their daily life, will find
that this is altogether so with them ; that they preserve
a practical impression of God's presence, which really
inflows into their thoughts and powerfully influences
them. They know at the same time that this is no
matter of conscious reflection ; nor does it in any per-
ceptible degree affect their power, of applying freely
and without encumbrance to their various duties as
they successively arise.
It will be further asked, is there, in the case of
'honestum,' the same distinction between 'implicit'
and 4 virtual,' which we have recognized in the case of
'delectabile ?' The question is of no great practical
moment, but I think that there is this distinction. By
one illustration, I shall be able both to explain my
statement, and sufficiently to evince its truth.
Suppose I set myself carefully to elicit that im-
portant act, which is called one of ' Amor super omnia,'
or 'sovereign Love.' What the necessary requisites
are for such an act, is a question of extreme moment,
248 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
to be considered in our theological course ; but we will
suppose that they have been attained. While my mind
remains in this posture, or (in other words) while this
act proceeds, I apply myself to the performance of
various incumbent duties. For some little time, in all
probability, the act remains unchanged ; the various
duties are performed on the highest of all possible
motives. By degrees however, my remembrance of
God becomes more vague, though still most real ; this
special act of sovereign Love is changed into a com-
bination of other acts, of which God is more or less
directly the Object ; such as those which we shall con-
sider in Theology, under the name 'acts of obedience,'
4 religion/ and the like. So soon as this is the case,
there ceases to be an intention of that peculiar end
which is appropriate to sovereign Love; for that special
end (by hypothesis) no longer inflows into the will.
And yet that very end virtually remains ; for the ends,
which now actuate my will, are but the present effect
and echo of that former end.
121, Returning now to our catalogue of 'bona' —
are there any other absolute ends at which the human
will can aim, besides those two which we have consi-
dered, viz. virtue and pleasure ? For instance — can we
ever act ' propter malitiamj for the mere wickedness of
an act ? It is agreed by all Catholic theologians and
philosophers, that we cannot; according to the phrase so
constantly quoted by St. Thomas, ' nemo intendens ad
malum operatur.' And this statement is undeniable.
Take the very wickedest man in the whole world, and get
him to fix his thoughts carefully on such topics as these :
c what foul ingratitude to neglect my Redeemer ;' — c how
exquisitely base and mean to ruin the friend that trusts
me.' Will it be found that such considerations spur him
on to evil action? that his spirits rise with the con-
templation ? that he enters with increased vigour and
refreshment, into further acts of sin ? On the contrary,
he knows most thoroughly, to the very depth of his
heart, that the reverse will take place ; and for that very
reason, we cant get him to dwell on such thoughts at all.
ON CERTAIN OTHER PHENOMENA OF THE WILL. 249
We all of us know, — he knows and we know, — that
if we can only get him duly to ponder on such thoughts,
our success in reclaiming him will be secure.
Man then is physically unable to act wrongly
' propter malitiam ;' quite as unable as he is to cross a
bridge of paper or fly up into the moon.
It may be said perhaps, ' Surely there are cases of
4 very abandoned sinners, where the mere fact of dis-
' obeying God is found to imbue sinful pleasure with
4 quite a peculiar zest.' No doubt this is true ; and
there is something indeed of the same kind, even in men
who are very far from abandoned sinners. But these
cases present no kind of difficulty in the way of my
statement. In such cases, let us grant, men act simply
for the pleasure of defying God. Still it is a pleasure.
Put the case that there were no pleasure in disobeying
God — could a person then act for the mere motive of
disobedience; ^ propter malitiam?' Clearly not. But
you see, on the other hand, men do, again and again, act
against the whole current of present pleasure, 4 propter
honestatem;' for the sake of the virtuousness of so
acting.
No one then can act simply for the sake of wicked-
ness : nor is there any need to occupy any time in
shewing, that neither can any one act for the sake of
pain, simply as such, and as an absolute end. We con-
clude therefore, that 'bonum' is rightly and exhaustively
divided, as it always is in Theology, into three kinds;
'honestum,' ' delectabile,' 'utile.'* Whenever we act
for any end at all, we act either ' propter bonum hones-
turn,9 for the sake of virtue; or else 'propter bonum
delectabile] for the sake of pleasure ; or else ' propter
bonum utile,1 for the sake of some object which is
useful as a means, towards one or other absolute
'bonum.' Our absolute end will invariably be either
4 honestum ' or 4 delectabile ;' our relative or interme-
diate end will be 'bonum utile.'
* See, e. g. St. Thomas' Summa, 1, q. 5, a. 6.
250
SECTION V.
On the Adaptation of our Nature to Virtue*
123. You may regard this, if you please, as the cul-
minating truth of this Chapter; as the truth, to which
every earlier remark is prefatory and subservient. In the
first Chapter we established, that by intrinsic necessity
such and such acts are virtuous, such and such vicious.
It will be very suitable then, if we establish in the second,
that God by His free Will has so created us, that our
nature is adapted to the practice of what is intrinsecally
virtuous and 'the avoidance of what is intrinsecally
vicious. At the same time, in point of fact many of the
phenomena, which we shall adduce in behalf of this pro-
position, are far more important in other respects, than
in their bearing on our conclusion. Still, by adducing
them in this shape, we shall have (as it were) a thread to
string them together ; and we shall be able to remember
them much more distinctly, than might be otherwise pos-
sible. Here then is our thesis, to be argued in the present
Section. It is plain that the eye was formed for the
purpose of seeing, and the ear for the purpose of hearing ;
yet it may often happen, that the very organ, given for
the purpose of seeing or hearing, not only fails in effecting
that purpose, but is the occasion of severe and terrible
suffering. In like manner, we maintain that our nature
was formed for the practice of virtue ; and yet to main-
tain this, is quite consistent with the admission, that mul-
titudes have perverted their nature to the practice of vice.
124. The first argument for our thesis, shall be a
* Those who are acquainted with the ' Sermons ' of Butler, the great
Anglican philosopher, will observe how many thoughts in this Section
are taken from them. I have annexed a few quotations from him ; but
these will give no adequate idea of the amount of matter due wholly to
that great work.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 251
very remarkable fact which we have already established
(see n. 121). We can, and frequently do, pursue virtue,
because it is virtue ; but the wickedest man alive has
not so much as the physical power, of pursuing vice
because it is vice. Here is a most striking superiority
allotted, in our moral nature, to virtue over vice.
125. Secondly. The only absolute ends, which the
will can pursue, are ' bonum honestum' and 'delecta-
bile:' now observe the circumstance that these are also
the only two legitimate ends of action. That 4 honestum'
is a legitimate end of action, is self-evident ; that ' delec-
tabile' is so, will be made clear (I hope) in ' de actibus
humanis;' meanwhile, to a Christian at least, the prin-
ciple is conclusively established, so soon as he re-
members how very virtuous are such motives as these,
— hope of Heaven and fear of Hell. It is a metaphy-
sical truth then, that these two ends 'honestum' and
4 delectabile ' are the two legitimate ends of action. And
we have the psychological fact, corresponding to that
metaphysical truth, that they are the only two ends,
which have the physical power of influencing our will.
126. Another psychological fact, most strongly to
our present purpose, has been mentioned in the First
Chapter. (See n. 51, p. 116.) God has so constituted
our nature, and so arranged the circumstances in which
we have been placed, — that there is no one class of
thoughts, brought more constantly before the minds of
all, even the most hardened sinners, than those of moral
obligation and moral prefer ableness. But these thoughts,
from their very nature, claim to be the ruling thoughts
of our whole life. (See n. 66, p. 133, 4.) With such
clamorous urgency does God, in the constitution of our
nature, summon us to virtue.
127. Already then I have put before you three argu-
ments for our thesis : our fourth shall be the following.
The pleasures of reflection are all on the side of virtue.
To explain.
The good man derives great enjoyment, from pur-
suing a virtuous course ; as we shall see fully established
in the remaining part of this Section, On the other
252 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
hand, the vicious man carries on his evil course, simply
for the sake of that pleasure, which is thence to be
derived. So far then, let it be conceded for argument's
sake, both are equal in point of enjoyment ; the
virtuous man deriving pleasure from the thought of
virtuous objects, and the vicious man of vicious. But
how as to the pleasures of reflection ? The thought of
vicious objects is pleasurable to the bad man; but is
the thought of his love for them pleasurable ? Is it a
happy thought, e. g. to the voluptuary, that he is the
mere slave of sensual enjoyment ? So very far other-
wise,— the exact opposite holds so very universally,—
that spiritual writers use the phrase, ' to enter into one's
self,' as simply expressing the idea c to lead a virtuous
life.' ' Peccator odit animam suam ;' the sinner is unable
to bear the thought of his own interior, and shrinks
from the very idea of steadily contemplating its state.
On the other hand, so far as the good man has reason
to believe that he is really advancing in the interior
life, really growing in the love of God, — the thought of
this fact is among the sweetest pleasures which nature
affords.
In one word. The good man loves good objects,
and the bad man bad objects; but the good man loves
his own love of good objects, whereas the evil man hates
his own love of things which are evil.
128. Our fifth argument may be introduced as
follows.
Every separate 'bonum delectabile' corresponds of
course to a separate propension. The propension ' Love
of Knowledge' turns on that 'bonum delectabile,' the
pleasure of knowledge; the propension ''Love of Praise,'
on the pleasure derived from praise. Now (1) if we
never aimed at ' bonum delectabile,' we should always
aim at * bonum honestum;' we should lead lives of (lan-
guid perhaps but of) faultless virtue. And (2) were it
not for our propensions, we could never aim at ' bonum
delectabile.' The logical conclusion is, that the propen-
sions are the one disturbing force in our nature; that
were it not for them, a deflection from virtue would be
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 253
physically impossible. It becomes then a matter of
great interest, to examine carefully the nature of these
propensions.
(1.) First we have to make on them one most ob-
vious remark. No reason can be given, except God's
free appointment, why we have these propensions
rather than those. We derive pleasure in fact from
acquiring knowledge ; but God might (had He so
pleased) have made that process simply painful : and
so with the rest.
(2.) Further, happiness of course is only obtainable,
through gratification of the propensions; it is simply
unmeaning to make any contradictory statement. Sup-
pose then God had so acted, that the circumstances,
under which He has placed us, should afford no object,
capable of gratifying those propensions which He has
given us. It is plain that, on such a supposition, all
happiness, even the very slightest, would be impossible.
Nay, — if our propensions had been such as to make
themselves felt and clamour for gratification, — then, in
the supposed case, misery, awful and unmitigated, must
have been our unavoidable doom. Now various argu-
ments, as you well know, have been drawn with great
force from the visible world, as proving an Intelligent
and Benevolent Creator through the plain marks of
benevolent design. Here is another most important
addition to such arguments ; viz. the fact that every
propension, which makes itself felt, has in fact an object
suited to its gratification, in those circumstances under
which God has placed us. The proof of this statement
will be found, in what is immediately to follow.
But (3) much more than this may be said. Every
propension, of whose existence we are aware, has a real
and legitimate place in helping us forward to virtue.
Christian mortification consists on the whole, — not in
thwarting, in checking, in endeavouring to root out, our
various propensions, — but rather the very contrary.
Mortification, I say, on the whole, with exceptions pre-
sently to be mentioned in detail, consists not in stinting
our various propensions, but in giving them fuller and
254 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
wider scope; in directing them to those Objects, which
yield them a far higher and deeper satisfaction, than any
other objects can give. And our propensions, when
they are thus directed, become (as I said) an invaluable
help to us, in our attempts to practise virtue.
This then is my fifth argument for the thesis of our
present Section. To sustain and illustrate it, will occupy
a very much longer space, than will the united treat-
ment of all our other arguments. But it will (in my
humble opinion) amply repay such lengthened con-
sideration, by the extreme importance of those results to
which it will lead. My first business will be, to establish
the above statement; viz. that every propension, of whose
existence we are aware, has a real and legitimate place
in helping us forward to virtue. When the truth of
this statement is made clear and undeniable, it will be
a very simple and easy matter to shew its cogency, as
an argument for our immediate thesis.
129. Now here, that I may the better explain my
meaning, let us suppose an objection. ' How can the
4 path of virtue be rendered easier,7 asks the objector,
4 by becoming more pleasurable ? A good act must be di-
' rected to the virtuousness of its end; (see n. 56, p. 123),
' whereas a propension can only draw us towards the
4 pleasure of that end. A propension, then, may help
' us indeed in the performance of that external act,
6 which is virtuous; but not in its virtuous perforin-
4 ance. Take, for instance, that propension already
4 mentioned, our love of knowledge. We are virtuous
4 in studying, only so far as we study for the sake of
4 that virtue ; whereas the propension, love of know-
4 ledge, inclines us to study on quite a different motive,
4 viz., the act's pleasurableness?
Certainly it cannot be denied, that when an emotion
of pleasure is excited by the thought of study, and
I put forth no special resistance, — my will also tends
to such pleasurableness as an immediate end. But
does it at all follow, that my will's whole energy tends
towards this end ? There is one act undoubtedly,
directed to * bonum delectabile ;' but does it follow, does
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 255
it tend ever so remotely to follow, that there is not an-
other act (and possibly one far more energetic and effi-
cacious) directed to i bonum honestum ?' In the case
before us, I am plainly not studying merely for plea-
sure ; for I see from my window that a game of cricket
is proceeding, which would give me much greater en-
joyment. I refrain from that pleasure, because I be-
lieve study to be that employment, in which God at this
moment prefers that I should engage. The objection,
then, does not tend ever so remotely to overthrow that
statement, against which it is directed. We admit most
fully, that an act is elicited at this moment, wherein my
will tends towards ' bonum delectabile ;' we only
maintain in addition, that the existence of this pleasure
gives my will the power, of eliciting simultaneously a
far more energetic act than would otherwise be pos-
sible, in the direction of 'bonum honestum.1
Before proceeding to defend this allegation, one
word maybe useful, (in order to avoid misconception,)
on the concomitant act directed to 4 bonum delectabile/
It by no means follows, nor is it by any means pro-
bable, that this act is sinful; though it is impossible
fully to explain our meaning on this head, till we
come to the theological treatment of c actus kumani.'
Firstly, the 4 bonum delectabile ' need not be its abso-
lute end ; the pleasure itself may be directed, uncon-
sciously indeed yet most really, to some further c bonum
honestum.' The act may be of this, or some cognate,
kind ; ' I choose the pleasure of study, as a means of
4 serving God more cheerfully and more effectually.'
Whenever I am deeply impressed with the thought of
God, whenever the implicit remembrance of His pre-
sence is acting powerfully on my will, it is probable
that most acts of mine, which are directed immediately
to pleasure, are directed absolutely to some such vir-
tuous end ; a truth, which I hope to defend and illus-
trate at sufficient length, in our theological course.
But secondly, even though pleasure were the act's ab-
solute end, the act need not be sinful; it might be simply
indifferent. Nay lastly, and to take the most extreme
256 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
case, though my act were directed to pleasure with that
degree of inordination which constitutes venial sin,—
(you must allow me to use these expressions, though
you cannot yet understand their meaning;) — still this
evil might be most abundantly counterbalanced, by the
simultaneous good which I obtain the power of effect-
ing. To the consideration of this good then, let us next
proceed.
The immense advantage, gained for the practice
of virtue through the pleasure which accompanies it,
consists ordinarily in two principal particulars. First,
the lessening of temptation. Under the head of Con-
cupiscence, we shall treat in detail the effect pro-
duced by temptation on the will : but it may here
be assumed, as sufficiently obvious on the surface, that
temptation acts upon the will like a heavy weight,
drawing it in the wrong direction ; thwarting and im-
peding it, to an indefinite extent, in its struggles to-
wards good. Everything which lessens temptation,
strengthens pro tanto the will's actual power to good
at the moment. Now taking the particular instance we
have chosen, and which is indeed a sample of number-
less others, see how vastly temptation is diminished, by
the pleasure which accompanies the virtuous act. It
is God's Preference, that at this moment I shall sit
down and study; but how urgent and violent would
be my temptation to engage rather in the game of
cricket, if the study were simply a dry, dreary, and
disgusting occupation. And this temptation would
increase in strength every instant ; until at length
(and indeed before very long) it would reach that de-
gree, which an ordinary man's will has not the moral
power of resisting. The pleasurableness, which accom-
panies virtuous practice, is often in fact a most impor-
tant part of that grace given us by God, (part of what
is called 'exterior grace,') enabling us to fight manfully
against temptation, in His service and for His sake.
The second benefit, which we derive from the ac-
companying pleasure, is connected with an important
phenomenon of the human will. Except in the case of
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 257
men who are practised and disciplined in austere virtue,
the will has not the moral power of tending for any
length of time to ' bonum honestumj while the sensitive
appetite remains without gratification. In a state of
long- continued and simple ' tristitia,' its powers to good
are withered and paralyzed. It is not at all too much
to say, that if other phenomena of our nature remained
as they are now, the consistent practice of virtue would
be simply and absolutely impossible,-^morally impos-
sible in the strictest and completest sense of that word, —
were it not for the various, and frequently keen pleasures,
which our Holy and Merciful Creator has strewed in
our path.
Here we are able to see the force of a phrase, fre-
quently used by St. Thomas and the Thomists ; ' delec-
tationes propter operationes, non contra.' These plea-
sures, so mercifully imparted by God, should be used
for the purpose intended by Him ; for the purpose of
more strenuously and virtuously performing those acts
to which they are annexed. On the other hand, if we
engaged in these operations for the sake of the plea-
sures, we should invert the order of nature. Suppose
I sit down to study in a quasi-gluttonous way ; simply
seeking the pleasure of that intellectual treat which it
affords, without considering at all whether God at this
moment prefers it; — here is the quasi-sensuality of a
highly intellectual man.
130. But there is another case of virtue being
assisted by concomitant pleasure, which has so very
special and distinct an importance of its own, as to
require separate treatment. I refer to the case of
what is commonly called sensible devotion; i.e. when
the accompanying pleasure arises directly from a con-
templation of those Objects, which should be the pole-
stars of our Christian course. This pleasure, I need
hardly say, reaches very different degrees in different
men ; or in the same men at different times. It ranges
from that cheering consolation which is so often felt by
an ordinary Christian, up to those high degrees of
rapture and delight, which are the frequent heritage
258 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
of Saints; such as made St. Francis Xavier exclaim,
c It is too much, O God, it is too much ! '
A false mystic, of whom you may have heard,
named Molinos, has been condemned for the following
proposition :—
Qui desiderat et amplectitur devotionem sen-
sibilem, non desiderat nee quserit Deum, sed
seipsum. — DENZ. p. 337, prop. 27.
And this condemnation surely gives no slight
sanction, on the Church's part, to the great importance
of sensible devotion in the interior life. We are not
of course denying, that there may be abuse of this ;
spiritual writers are loud in saying that there may be,
and that there often is. But it is an extremely trite
remark, that a thing's abuse is no argument against
its use; and our own present argument leads us rather
to consider its inestimable service in the promotion of
true piety.
Observe then that sensible pleasure, i. e. emotion of
an intense kind, unless we strenuously resist its ten-
dency, penetrates the intellect with a most vivid appre-
hension of its object. Now the objects which produce
sensible devotion are such, that in proportion as the
intellect contemplates them more keenly, the will
elicits higher and nobler acts of virtue. What are the
kind of thoughts which constitute the very life of
sensible devotion ? I suppose such as these : the
wonderful and unwearied love of God, as contrasted
with man's ingratitude and insensibility ; — the trea-
sures of tenderness stored up in the Sacred Heart;—
the rapturous joys reserved for us in Heaven ; — and so
with many others. As our emotions rise more highly
from such thoughts as these, the thoughts themselves
take a far deeper and more powerful hold of the in-
tellect, and thus lead to the highest and choicest acts
of the will. In other words, the sensitive appetite acts
on the will, in the way of rendering its acts far more
efficacious, through the intermediate agency of the
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 259
intellect. This will be made still clearer, when we con-
sider the relation between intellect and will ; mean-
while I would earnestly recommend you to study
Father Faber's chapter on the subject, which makes
part of his ' Growth in Holiness.'*
131. We have now gone through our preliminary
enquiry ; we have sufficiently seen how perfectly con-
ceivable it is, that the propensions may be of invaluable
service to the cause of virtue. We now come to our
direct and immediate statement, that they are so ; inso-
much that, of those various propensions which are the
sole occasion of sin, there is not one which may not in
its way importantly promote the glory of God. It
will of course be impossible for us to enumerate all the
propensions ; but I am confident we shall be able to
establish so large an induction, that no doubt will
remain in your minds on the truth of what we affirm.
Indeed if not sufficiently satisfied, you have but to
task your ingenuity, — to think of any propension
which I shall not have named, — and call on me to
prove my point in regard to that propension. BuV,
first, of course, you must hear patiently to an end my
own enumeration.
I will begin with the propension of Duty. It is
a plain fact in human nature, that we derive plea-
sure from the mere consciousness of doing what is
* P. 422-451. The following passage particularly deserves attention.
" [During periods of sensible devotion], all trains of thought which concern
heavenly things display a copiousness and exuberance which they never had
before. Meditations are fluent and abundant. The virtues no longer bring
forth their actions in pain and travail, but with facility and abundance,
and their offspring are rich, beautiful, and heroic. There are provinces
of temptations always in discontented and smouldering rebellion. But
[now] we have a power over them, which is new, and which is growing. We
have such a facility in difficulties as almost to change the character of the
spiritual life ; and a union of body and spirit, which is as great a revolution
as agreement and peace in a divided household. All these blessings
are the mutations of the Right Hand of the Most High. Even to beginners,
God often vouchsafes to give them, not merely as sugar-plums to children,
as some writers have strangely said, but to do a real work in their souls,
and enable them to hold their way through the supernatural difficulties
proper to their state. But proficients should ardently desire them, for they
fatten prayer ; and the perfect can never do without them, as they can
never cease augmenting their virtues and rendering the exercise of them
pleasant."— Pp. 428, 429. »
260 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
right. This is so undoubted, that many Protestants,
who fully hold the intuitiveness of moral truth, have
introduced great error into their speculations, by con-
fusing these two totally distinct facts : (1) our intui-
tion of what is right; and (2) our pleasure in prac-
tising it. Now it is remarkable that their opponents,
those who deny altogether our intuition of moral truth,
yet never deny the other fact ; viz. the pleasurable-
ness of moral practice. They never deny, I mean,
that we do derive a real gratification, from the simple
belief that we are doing our duty.
The strength however of this propension, appears
to be very far greater on the negative than on the
positive side. The misery of doing what we know
to be evil, is far keener and more poignant, than the
pleasure of doing what we know to be good. It has
sometimes happened, that even the most wicked men,
having committed some extraordinary crime, have felt
a remorse so bitter that life has been intolerable. In
the case of all newly plunged in sin, the pain of
remorse accompanies and sullies all those enjoyments
which their sin may purchase. But much more, as
men grow in goodness, does this propension increase
in strength. To a Saint, the deliberate commission
of one venial sin is anguish almost unsupportable.
It needs no argument to shew how extremely im-
portant is this propension in the cause of virtue.
132. The next propension I will name, shall be
that of ' Self-charity ;' the propension whereby we feel
pleasure at the thought that our happiness is being pro-
moted, and pain at the thought that it is being lessened.
How far this is a strong and unintermitting propension,
we shall consider in the next chapter ; but so far as
it exists, its effect on all Theists must be simply and
greatly good. Nay take even the exceptional instance
of those who believe in no punishment after death —
even on them this propension has one beneficial
effect ; it will often cause vicious pleasure to be accom-
panied with a pang, which arises from the remembrance,
that their permanent happiness even on this earth suffers
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 261
from their wicked courses. But in all who believe
a future state of retribution, it is plain that this pro-
pension works constantly and uniformly on the side of
man's highest good.
133. I must now call your attention to an ex-
tremely strong propension, or rather union of pro-
pensions ; the treatment of which will occupy some
little time : we may call it the propension of c Personal
Love.' Following St. Thomas's language, we may sub-
divide this into three propensions ; — ' Amor Concupis-
centiae,' 'Amor Amicitiae,' and ' Amor Benevolentise :'
though St. Thomas is speaking of them as virtues,
and not as propensions. We shall find indeed, as
we advance, that two of these three are more properly
counted as the same ; but we will begin by explaining
the three, as St. Thomas understands them. First
then for 'Amor Benevolentiae.'
It frequently happens, that I may hear anecdotes of
some living man, or read his life, or in some other way
come to a knowledge of his character; — and I may feel
my affections drawn to the subject of these anecdotes,
in a way quite unlike that, in which they are drawn to
any one else. I may most fully recognise that others
are as good men, or better ; but there is some quality
in this man's goodness, which specially finds an echo
in my own breast ; some inexplicable sympathy on my
part towards him, which it is quite hopeless to analyse.
He for his part (we will suppose) knows nothing of me
whatever ; nor has he so much as heard of my exist-
ence. Still what singular pleasure I receive, in con-
templating the success he meets with in his various
undertakings ! How overjoyed I am to know of his
well-doing ! What delight should I experience, in
going through indefinite effort and privation, for the
sake of promoting his interests ! Or again, suppose that
(without knowing me personally) he expressed some
wish or preference, as to the conduct to be pursued
by his friends and well-wishers, — how keen would be
my pleasure in conforming my conduct to the wishes
262 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
so expressed! The propension, which makes me sus-
ceptible of these various pleasures, and of their oppo-
site pains, may be called 'Amor Benevolentiae.'
But now put a further case. Let us suppose, that
the object of my affections becomes acquainted with
me. Let us suppose, that just as his peculiarities of
character have attracted my affections towards him
with such singular warmth, — so he should become
acquainted with corresponding peculiarities of mine,
which draw him with equal tenderness towards myself.
What then ensues ? My feeling of Amor Benevolentige
to him becomes at once indefinitely stronger; or in
other words, the pleasure which I feel, in promoting
his interests or conforming to his wishes, becomes in-
definitely greater. Here is 'Amor Amicitite;1 c amatio
et redamatio : ' — that disinterested love for another,
which is accompanied and intensified by the conscious-
ness that I am loved in return. We can hardly find a
more suitable instance of this feeling, than the rela-
tions between a widowed mother and me her only child.
Our characters were in no small degree similar; and
her education of me has rendered that similitude closer
and more exquisite. Consider, on the one hand, the
keen appreciation with which I dwell on those many
loveable points of her character, which speak so pecu-
liarly to my feelings. Consider, on the other hand, my
deep abiding consciousness, how tenderly she loves me ;
how open to her is my whole character ; how fully she
understands its various peculiarities. Is it not plain
that all this will produce in me the liveliest and deepest
emotions of disinterested attachment? With actual
delight and joy would I go through a world of labour,
if I could save that dear heart one single pang.
At the same time, and as the necessary companion
of this propension, I have another quite different in
kind, 'Amor Concupiscentise.' I delight in my know-
ledge of her love; her praise is among my sweetest
rewards ; that we shall exchange unrestrained con-
fidences and grow in knowledge of each other, is
ON THE ADAFPATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 263
among my happiest active employments ; to gaze on her
sweet smile and loving countenance, is like entering into
a tranquil and secure harbour from the storms of life.
You will at once see, from what has been said,
that ' Amor Amicitise' is but one species of 'Amor
Benevolentia3 ; ' whereas ' Amor Concupiscentiae ' is
wholly different in character. 'Amor Benevolentiae '
and ' Amicitiae' derive their respective gratifications
from precisely the same objects ; viz. the well-being
and well-doing of the beloved person : whereas 'Amor
Concupiscentiae' is satisfied by objects totally different
from the former. Without as yet accurately defining
our terms, we may say that ' Amor Benevolentise' is a
* disinterested' propension ; ' Amor Concupiscentiae' an
'interested' one. What is meant by this? The plea-
sures, which I derive in virtue of my propension ' Amor
Benevolentise' or ' Amicitiae,' result from the well-being
of its object in himself; but those which I derive from
' Amor Concupiscentiae,' result from his demeanour to-
wards me. The knowledge that my friend is happy, or
that his interests are being promoted, suffices in itself to
cause all those delights which result from the former
propension; whereas the latter propension derives its
satisfaction from a knowledge of my own position in
that friend's favour and affection. Indeed the ' Amor
Concupiscentiae' often clashes more than a little with
the 'Amor Benevolentise:' I am far from feeling that
pleasure which I otherwise should, in my friend's well-
being or the promotion of his highest interests, because
I long for more of his society or warmer manifestations
of his regard.
The following quotation from Billuart, St. Thomas's
most approved commentator in his own school, may
suffice to shew, that I have accurately stated the An-
gelic Doctor's use of these expressions ; with only the
qualification already mentioned, that he speaks of them
as virtues, not as propensions.
" Observandum 1°. cum eruditissimo magistro nostro P.
Henneguier, in suo opuscule De Absolutione Sacramental!, du-
264 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
plicem attend! posse in nobis erga Deum amorem : scilicet amorem
concupiscentise, quo volumus Deum nobis bonum Ejusque beati-
tudinem nobis appetimus ; et amorem amicitise, quo Deo bonum
Ejusque beatitudinem et perfectionem volumus. Hie iterum est
duplex : unus secundum quid et inchoatus, alter simplex et abso-
lutus. Primus dicitur benevolentise simplicis, alter benevolentiae
amicabilis. Neque enim idem sunt, ut plerique existimant, bene-
volentia, et amicitia seu charitas : benevolentia est alterius prin-
cipium seu effectus; nam ex eo quod alicui volumus bonum,
disponimur ut ipsum amemus et ad ipsum amicitiam habeamus ;
inde etiam quod aliquem amemus et ad ipsum amicitiam ha-
beamus, fit ut ipsi bonum velimus: unde S. Th. 2, 2, q. 27, art
2, ad. 1, dicit quod cum philosophus definit amare, quod est
velle alicui bonum, f definiat amorem, non ponens totam rationem
6 ipsius, sed aliquid ad ejus rationem pertinens, in quo maxime
( manifestatur dilectionis affectus.'
" Est igitur hoc discrimen, secundum D. Th., inter bene-
volentiam et amorem amicitise, quod benevolentia sit simplex
actus voluntatis, quo volumus alicui bonum sine redamatione ex
parte ejus; ut dum videmus duos pugiles in certamine aliunde
nobis ignotos, quorum unum vellemus vincere; est exemplum
S. Thomae loco citato: amor autem seu amicitia addit benevo-
lentise redamationem, seu unionem affectuum ad invicem ; amicus
enim est amico amicm, ut fert commune adagium. Placet verba
S. Doctoris referre loco citato in corpore articuli ; ubi inquirens
utrum amare, prout est actus charitatis, (quam paulo ante de-
finierat esse amicitiam, ut dicam modo), sit idem quod benevo-
lentia, sic respondet : 6 Dicendum quod benevolentia proprie
6 dicitur actus voluntatis, quo alteri bonum volumus. Hie autem
( voluntatis actus differt ab actuali amore, tarn secundum quod
( est in appetitu sensitive, quam etiam secundum quod est in
( appetitu intellective, quod est voluntas.' Turn paucis inter-
jectus prosequitur : ( Amor (seu amicitia) importat quamdam
6 unionem secundum affectum amantis ad amatum, in quantum
6 scilicet amans aestimat amatum quodam modo, ut unum sibi
( vel ad se pertinens, et sic movetur in ipsum ; sed benevolentia
( est simplex actus voluntatis, quo volumus alicui bonum, etiam
( non praBsupposita praedicta unione affectus ad ipsum. Sic ergo
e in dilectione secundum quod est actus charitatis (hoc est ami-
( citias, ut mox dicam), includitur aliqua benevolentia ; sed dilectio,
' sive amor, addit unionem affectus ; et propter hoc philosophus
c dicit ibidem, quod benevolentia sit principiurn amicife.'
" Unde vulgo & theologis assignantur tres conditiones requi-
sitae ad amicitiam : prima, quod sit amor benevolentiaa, non con-
cupiscentiaa ; secunda, quod sit mutuus ; tertia, quod fundetur in
aliquli communicatione, sive bonorum, sive secretorum, &c. inter
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 265
amicos : sicque benevolentia et amicitia conveniunt in prima con-
ditione, differunt in secunda et tertia." — BILLUART, De Payi. diss.
4. art. 7. par. 1.
I may also add however the following references :
2, 2, q. 23, a. 1,0; q. 27, a. 2, 0, ad finem.
Some few Catholic writers, Bossuet being one, main-
tain that, according to St. Thomas, even in 'Amor Ami-
citiae' we are aiming at our own advantage: but the
more suitable place for refuting this strange opinion,
will be found under the head of the theological virtues
in the subsequent part of our course.
134. This will be the proper opportunity for shew-
ing (see n. 98.) how totally distinct is the passion
1 Amor,' whether from 'Amor Benevolentise' or 'Amor
Concupiscentiee ;' though I admit that St. Thomas seems
in some sense to identify it with the latter.
The passion 'Amor' is that emotion which I ex-
perience, whenever the thought enters my mind of any
object which is to me at this moment a ' bonum delec-
tabile.' On the other hand it is simply in virtue of my
propensions, that this object rather than that, is to me
a c bonum delectabile.' To say that the propension
4 Amor Benevolentise' has been called out in me towards
A. B. is simply to say in other words, that the well-
being and well-doing of A. B. is to me ordinarily a
' bonum mentaliter delectabile.' To say that the pro-
pension c Amor Concupiscentige' has been called out in
me towards him, is to say that the possession of his
favour and love is to me ordinarily a c bonum mentaliter
delectabile.' When I think indeed on either of these
objects, I ordinarily experience the passion ' Amor ;' but
I experience it in no other sense, and in no other degree,
than when I think of any other 'bonum delectabile' in
the whole world. There is, I say, literally no more con-
nection between the passion ' Amor' and the propension
' Amor Concupiscentiae,' than between the said passion
and the propension, 'Love of Praise,' ' Love of Acquisi-
tion,' or any other which can possibly be named.
And the same remark may be made, mutatis mu-
tandis, on the modal affection ' Amor.' This is simply
266 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
that act of Will which, unless I make special resistance,
infallibly accompanies the passion ' Amor,' when I
think of any 'bonum delectabile.' (See n. 100.)
135. Returning to the two propensions before us,
we may call their union by the name c Personal Love ; '
and it is plain at once, how great an assistance they give
in many respects to the cause of virtue, even if lavished
on human objects. They raise the heart above low and
grovelling desires ; they open to the mind ideas of far
higher and more exalted pleasures, than would other-
wise be dreamt of ; they tend to form the character in
habits of generosity and disinterestedness.
But are our fellow-men, specially our fellow-men in
this visible world, objects at all adequate to this pro-
pension, as God has implanted it in our hearts ? Surely,
though we had no more than unaided reason to guide
us, we never could think so. The following most beau-
tiful passage may serve here to express my meaning.
" The thought of God, and nothing short of it, is the hap-
piness of man; for though there is much besides to serve as
subject of knowledge, or motive for action, or instrument of
excitement, yet the affections require a something more vast and
more enduring than any tiling created. What is novel and
sudden, excites, but does not influence ; what is pleasurable or
useful, raises no awe ; self moves no reverence ; and mere know-
ledge kindles no love. He alone is sufficient for the heart who
made it. I do not say, of course, that nothing short of the
Almighty Creator can awaken and answer to our love, reverence,
and trust. Man can do this for man ; man doubtless is an
object to rouse his brother's love, and repays it in his measure.
Nay, it is a great duty, one of the two chief duties of religion,
thus to be minded towards our neighbour. But I am not speak-
ing here of what we can do, or ought to do, but what it is our
happiness to do; and surely it may be said, that though the
love of the brethren, the love of all men, be one-half of our
obedience, yet this love exercised by itself, were that possible,
(which it is not) were no part of our reward. And for this
reason, if for no other, that our hearts require something more
permanent and uniform than man can be. We gain much for a
time from fellowship with each other. It is a relief to us, as
fresh air to the fainting, or meat and drink to the hungry, or
a flood of tears to the heavy in mind. It is a soothing comfort
to have those whom we may make our confidants; a comfort
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 267
to have those to whom we may confess our faults; a comfort
to have those to whom we may look for sympathy. Love of
home and family in these and other ways is sufficient to make
this life tolerable to the multitude of men, which otherwise it
would not be; but still, after all, our affections exceed such
exercise of them, and demand what is more stable. Do not
all men die? are they not taken from us? are they not as
uncertain as the grass of the field ? We do not give our hearts
to things inanimate, because these have no permanence in them.
We do not place our affections in sun, moon, and stars, or this
rich and fair earth, because all things material come to nought,
and vanish like day and night. Man, too, though he has an
intelligence within him, yet in his best estate is altogether vanity.
If our happiness consists in our affections being employed and
recompensed, ' man that is born of a woman' cannot be our
happiness ; for how can he stay another, who ( continueth not
in one stay' himself?
" But there is another reason why God alone is the happiness
of our souls, to which I wish rather to direct attention. The con-
templation of Him, and nothing but it, is able fully to open and
relieve the mind, to unlock, occupy, and fix our affections. We
may indeed love things created with great intenseness ; but such
affection, when disjoined from the love of the Creator, is like a
stream running in a narrow channel, impetuous, vehement, turbid.
The heart runs out, as it were, only at one door ; it is not an ex-
panding of the whole man. Created natures cannot open to us, or
elicit, the ten thousand mental senses which belong to us, and
through which we really live. None but the presence of Our
Maker can enter us ; for to none besides can the whole heart in all
its thoughts and feelings be unlocked and subjected. f Behold/ he
says., ' I stand at the door and knock ; if any man hear my voice
and open the door, I will come unto him, and will sup with him,
and he with me.' c My Father will love him, and We will come
unto him, and make our abode with him.' ' God hath sent forth
the Spirit of His Son into your hearts/ ' God is greater than our
heart, and knoweth all things.' It is this feeling of simple and
absolute confidence and communion, which soothes and satisfies
those to whom it is vouchsafed. We know that even our nearest
friends enter into us but partially, and hold intercourse with us
only at times ; whereas the consciousness of a perfect and endur-
ing presence, and it alone, keeps the heart open. Withdraw the
object on which it rests, and it will relapse again into its state of
confinement and constraint; and in proportion as it is limited,
either to certain seasons or to certain affections, the heart is
straitened and distressed. If it be not over-bold to say it, He
who is Infinite can alone be its measure ; He alone can answer to
268 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
the mysterious assemblage of feelings and thoughts which it has
within it. ( There is no creature that is not manifest in His
sight, but all things are naked and opened unto the eyes of Him
with whom we have to do.'" — Newman's Parochial Sermons,
vol. v. pp. 357-361.
The fact which we are considering, is one of such
extreme importance in a great number of ways, that I
must ask your indulgence for what might seem an
impertinence. It might seem, I say, an impertinence,
if I ventured to add anything of my own, when your
memories are filled with that beautiful passage which
I have just quoted; and yet it will serve (I hope) to
give us a still firmer and deeper possession of the truth
before us, if we consider in some detail those various
particulars, which Father Newman has united in his
most attractive picture. Let us consider then the
warmest mutual affection, that can exist towards a
visible human friend. And in order to fix our ideas by
one instance, let us compare that affection, with the
friendship which may be sustained, between the Sacred
Humanity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and a soul which
gives itself generously to God/
First consider devotion to the cause of that friend.
Who could dare make it the chief wish of his life, to
promote the cause or desires of any earthly friend?
Who might even surrender himself for one moment
without restraint to such a purpose? You see then
that our devotion to any earthly friend (1) must be
occasional, and not pervasive of our whole life ; while
(2) it must be measured and not unreserved.
Next, consider the foundation of the friendship,
according to that theory on Personal Love which we
have drawn out ; in other words, those particular quali-
ties of heart and character, which specially attract our
love. In studying the mysteries of our Saviour's life
on earth, or the various aspects under which His
different offices towards us are represented by the
Church, — one man is drawn specially to one class of
such exhibitions, another to another. One man is
singularly affected by His Infancy; another by His
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 269
Passion ; a third by the Sacred Heart ; a fourth by the
Precious Blood. One Christian dwells with tenderest
devotion on His acts, another on His words ; one is
more affected by His compassionate love towards the
worst sinners, another by His most tender familiarity
with the beloved Apostle. And so we might indefi-
nitely proceed. But we may safely assert that there
is no one human being, among all the inexhaustible
varieties of character, but will find more than one
feature specially to win and attract him. It matters
not to our argument what that special feature may be :
for in all there is the same Divine Saviour ; in all there
is a certain quality, unparalleled and unapproachable ;
in all (I need not say, for to doubt it were blasphemy;
in all) there is that, to which no development of our
earthly friend's character can bear the most distant
comparison.
Thirdly, consider that important ingredient in friend-
ship, mutual confidence and appreciation. With earthly
friends I can exchange but half confidences ; to the
most sympathetic and congenial friend I can open but
a small part of myself, and should only be misunder-
stood if I attempted more.* But the Soul of Christ
views my whole character in all its lights and shades;
* "And even with our fellowmen^ — are they adequate objects for our
thoughts and affections ? Practically, it is a plain matter of fact, that they
are not. How are our affections and sympathies broken up and given away
in fragments ! We do not trust our whole heart to our nearest friend.
We give part of our confidence to one man, part to another ; we cannot
give more, and should be stared at if we tried. When we wish really to
sympathise with another's deep feelings, or to explain our own, how hope-
lessly do we fall short ; and by what a chance does it seem to be that we
succeed at all ! Those burnings of the heart which we occasionally experi-
ence, on having sure signs that others do thoroughly feel what we do, or
when a great system opens upon us, or when one whom we love performs
a noble action, or when one whom we revere shews us unexpected affection,
at once shew us the emptiness of our ordinary sympathies, and are earnests
of something greater. Such passing emotions betray to us capacities for a
state of habitual feeling, in which must be the highest happiness, and which
we are as yet as unable and unworthy to feel as our friends are to excite.
Is it conceivable that this union of high capability with actual unworthi-
ness should be meant merely to point us forward to a future life ? Surely,
rather it sanctions those present desires which it causes ; that blind craving
after the supernatural, that worshipping of the unknown God, of which the
highest and the lowest minds give common witness." — British Critic, 1838,
p. 217.
270 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
sees in every particular my difficulties, my sorrows, my
temptations ; understands the cause of this peculiarity,
which repels my dearest earthly friend; does justice
to my conduct under that emergency, when my nearest
intimates felt themselves bound to condemn me. You
will object at once, that my faults also and imperfections
are exposed with fearful openness to His piercing gaze.
Ah ! we do little justice to His loving tenderness, if we
regard this as an objection. If there be but the real wish
of doing right, if there be but a true desire of dealing
generously with Him, it may be said in a most true
sense that our miserable short-comings and infirmities
are even incentives to his love. In our theological
course this most touching truth will be handled at
length.
Fourthly, friendship with our Lord is a friendship,
which, if I am but faithful to myself and to His grace,
is sure, steadfast, and eternal. If my dearest friends
in many things misunderstand me now, what constant
danger there is lest, under some future contingency,
they may far more grievously misunderstand me ! If St.
Paul and St. Barnabas, among the most holy of God's
servants, and endeared to each other by common labour
in their Redeemer's service — if these holy Apostles
could cool and separate, what earthly friendship can be
accounted secure? Here then is one mode in which
earthly friendships may be dissolved; and another is
the very condition of this life. My tastes may change,
nay they are ever changing ; my friend's tastes change ;
circumstances remove us from all active communication
with each other ; till we meet again after a long interval,
and find that our mutual sympathy is gone. But look
at the opposite picture. Jesus Christ is ' the same
yesterday, to-day, and for ever;' and for myself, as I
advance in piety, I do but increase in sympathy with
Him. Nay, as Father Newman most justly remarks,
His very greatness keeps me back from that rude
familiarity, which sometimes brings earthly friendships
to a speedy end.*
* " Fear is allayed by the love of Him, and our love sobered by our fear
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 271
Fifthly, in earthly friendships, as we have already
remarked, the c Amor Concupiscentiae' is ever clashing
with the c Amor Benevolentise : ' in heavenly friendships
alone are they fully harmonious and complementary of
each other. In proportion as I enjoy with greater zest
that one pleasure, of working for my dearest Lord and
consulting His Preference in all things, — in that very
proportion do I the more enjoy that other pleasure, of
basking in the sunshine of His presence, and rejoicing
in the thought of His approbation and love.
Then lastly, friendship presses towards union with
the beloved object; almost, as it were, towards cor-
poral union; as the very marks of friendship which
we spontaneously exhibit, embracing and the like, suf-
ficiently testify. But what other union of friendship
can bear a moment's comparison, to that miraculous
union which we enjoy with the Sacred Humanity, in
the Sacrament of our Saviour's love, the pledge of His
undying tenderness?
So here are six points of contrast. First, the love
to our Saviour is more pervasive and ungrudging;
secondly, those qualities which are its foundation are
more attractive ; thirdly, the mutual confidence is
greater ; fourthly, the friendship is more permanent
and stable ; fifthly, in this friendship alone the ' Amor
BenevolentisB ' and ' Concupiscentiae' are brought into
harmony ; sixthly, the union is closer. In every one
of these particulars the superiority of Divine friendship
is vast and incalculable.
It may unthinkingly be urged, in objection to all
of Him. Thus He draws us on with encouraging voice amid the terrors of
His threatenings. As in the young ruler's case, He loves us, yet speaks
harshly to us, that we may learn to cherish mixed feelings towards Him.
He hides himself from us, and yet calls us on, that we may hear His voice
as Samuel did, and believing, approach Him with trembling. This may
seem strap ge to those who do not study the Scriptures, and to those who
do not know what it is earnestly to seek after God. But in proportion as
the state of mind is strange, so is there in it, therefore, untold and surpass-
ing pleasure to those who partake it. The bitter and the sweet, strangely
tempered, thus leave upon the mind the lasting taste of Divine truth, and
satisfy it ; not so harsh as to be loathed ; nor of that insipid sweetness
which attends enthusiastic feelings, and is wearisome when it becomes
familiar." — Par. Serm. vol. i. p. 350.
272 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
this, that friendship requires for its perfection a certain
exclusiveness ; and that He who loves all mankind with
such exuberant tenderness, can be no sufficient object
for this propension. A moment's thought gives the
reply. In human friendship exclusiveness is neces-
sary, simply because the will, the intellect, the affec-
tions of men are in themselves so limited and confined :
we have not enough of our friend's thoughts, if his
friendship be shared with multitudes. In Divine friend-
ship this holds not in the slightest degree. So the
Protestant poet answers this very objection: —
" Thou art as much His care, as though beside
Nor man nor angel lived in heaven or earth ;
Thus sunbeams shed alike their glorious tide,
To light up worlds or wake an insect's mirth :
They shine and shine in unexhausted store ;
Thou art thy Saviour's darling, ask no more."
The sun, Mr, Keble implies, puts forth its whole
influence towards enlivening a poor worm, just as
though there were no gorgeous palaces, or majestic
scenes of natural beauty, to receive its gladdening light.
And so the Sun of Justice sheds His whole rays on me,
a miserable worm of the earth, as fully, as absolutely,
as though there were no mortified priests or holy
ascetics, who look to His light as their very life. That
human soul of His, as we shall see when we study the
Incarnation treatise, is occupied, at every instant, as
simply, as intently, in reading my heart and consider-
ing my thoughts, as though there were no other object
to engage it. The objection then is not merely an-
swered; it is actually retorted. One chief prerogative
of Divine Love as compared with human, is the con-
stant thought and consideration which we receive from
the Beloved Object.
Another objection may be ingeniously raised, against
part at least of the above argument. Who would ven-
ture, I asked, to throw himself unreservedly and per-
vasively into any human friendship ? 4 Certainly,' re-
plies the objector, 'no good man could do so; but
4 might not a bad man ? And why may not he so far
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 273
' obtain the very same pleasure> which the pious man
' gains by his friendship with our Lord?' Now there
have been from time to time various men, with hearts
far removed from God, who have more or less at-
tempted thus to make idols of their fellow-men: and
what has been the result ? The very attempt shews
weakness of character, as all would admit; that love,
which can be a strong-minded man's one object, must
be a divine and not a human love. But look at this
weak-minded idolator of a fellow-man, and see what is
the course of his history. He is in constant alterna-
tions, flux and reflux, of rapture and despondency.
To-day he has found the very idol, for which he has
so long been seeking in vain; he is in transports of
delight. Next week he finds that his idol is but an
ordinary man, and he falls into an agony of disappoint-
ment. These men, in fact, more signally than any
others, illustrate the truth which I am putting before
you ; they display every imaginable symptom, of lavish-
ing a strong propension on objects utterly and con-
temptibly unable to afford it gratification.
We now proceed to further illustrations of our
principle. My love for my Redeemer viewed in His
human nature, leads me (in proportion to its growth)
to a constantly increasing love for the Triune God ;
for God contemplated in His own Original and Infinite
Nature.* Here is indeed an adequate object for my
keen affections.
Again, the love of Mary is an ever fresh and in-
exhaustible well of joy and delight. Love to her in-
deed, such as we find it in the greatest Saints, is that
very reality, of which the highest (perhaps) and purest
among human affections, — a child's love to his mother
— is but the faint and inadequate type.
Then again, from among the Saints I choose this
or that one in particular ; not from believing him to be
the holiest in that blessed assemblage, but because his
. is that particular exhibition of sanctity, to which (from
* u Ut dum visibiliter Deum cognoscimus per hunc in invisibilium
amorem rapiamur™
T
274 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
some occult sympathy) I am instinctively drawn. It is
not merely one indeed, but a certain small number,
towards whom for this reason I cherish a special and
tender devotion.
Lastly, love for my Guardian Angel has something
in it which reminds me of human friendship; for this
loved being stands to me in a relation which he holds
to 'no other creature, and loves me therefore with a
certain exclusiveness of affection.
And thus we see, in strong corroboration of our
general thesis, a very important fact, as to those who
are called by the Holy Spirit to the noble vocation, of
steadily and systematically renouncing all particular
attachments on earth. These men, we see, are in no
sense called upon to subdue this propension of Personal
love, but the very contrary. Their love is directed
with all the more intensity and delight to its legitimate
Objects; who belong indeed to the Invisible World, but
whom the eye of faith so keenly and lovingly discerns.
136. The next. propension which deserves our notice,
is General Love of our fellow-men, as distinct from
Personal: and this again exists under the same two
divisions, c Benevolentiae,' and 4 Concupiscentia?.' I say
we have a certain love to our fellow-men as such : this
propension may be thwarted by various causes ; such
as a sense of injury received, or some special antipathy;
but where such disturbing influences are absent, the
propension shews itself unmistakeably. Man, as is so
constantly remarked, is a social animal. We seek the
society of our fellow-men as such, by a tendency quite
distinct from that, which leads us to seek the society
of our personal friends. And when we are in this
general society, we feel a certain genial cordiality
as our normal attitude of mind. In other words (1)
we experience a certain feeling of general goodwill to
our companions; — 'Amor BenevolentiaB :' and (2) we
take for granted, and have pleasure in the thought,
that they respond to that feeling ; — ' Amor Concupis-
centiae.' * That ' Amor Concupiscentiae ' indeed towards
* " Mankind are by nature so closely united, there is such a correspond-
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUH NATURE TO VIRTUE. 275
our fellow-men is negatively a most strong propension,
is manifest from this. I suppose no man could live
(unless supported by most singular supplies of grace)
under the impression that all his fellow-men regarded
him as a monster of depravity. And this misery would
evidently be totally distinct from any fear for his per-
sonal safety ; it would arise simply from believing
himself an object of universal detestation.
This propension, even in its rudimental state, is of
manifest advantage to the cause of virtue ; in that it
directs our thoughts, from purely selfish ends, to the
promotion of the common good. In holy men it assumes
far greater prominence ; and develops into that intense
feeling of brotherly love, so characteristic of the saintly
character. The holy missionary or parish priest is no
doubt chiefly animated by personal love for his Creator
and Saviour ; yet no slight support is afforded him in
his holy enterprises, by this burning love of the brethren.
A remark has often been made, sometimes indeed by
the enemies of Christianity as a reproach to it, but it
seems certainly just: it is this. The tendency on the
whole of growth in sanctity is, that our personal love
ence between the inward sensations of one man and those of another, that
disgrace is as much avoided as bodily pain, and to be the object of esteem
and love is as much desired as any external goods : and in many particular
cases, persons are carried on to do good to others, as the end their affection
tends to and rests in ; and manifest that they find real satisfaction and
enjoyment in this course of behaviour. There is such a natural principle
of attraction in man towards man, that having trod the same tract of land,
having breathed in the same climate, barely having been born in the same
artificial district or division, becomes the occasion of contracting acquaint-
ances and familiarities many years after : for anything may serve the pur-
pose. Thus relations merely nominal are sought and invented, not by
governors, but by the lowest of the people ; which are found sufficient to
hold mankind together in little fraternities and copartnerships : weak
ties indeed, and that may afford fund enough for ridicule, if they are
absurdly considered as the real principles of that union : but they are
in truth merely the occasions, as anything may be of anything, upon
which our nature carries us on according to its own previous bent and bias ;
which occasions therefore would be nothing at all, were there not this prior
disposition and bias of nature. Men are so much one body, that in a
peculiar manner they feel for each other, shame, sudden danger, resentment,
honour, prosperity, distress ; one or another, or all of these ; from the social
nature in general, from benevolence, upon the occasion of natural relation,
acquaintance, protection, dependence ; each of these being distinct cements
of society." — Butler's Sermons.
276 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
shall more and more be taken from our visible com-
panions here below, and fixed on the Invisible World. I
am far from meaning by this, that all men, or more than
a comparatively small portion, are called by God to a
state in which particular earthly friendships are to cease.
But I do think it true, that, as we advance towards
perfection, such friendships become less absorbing and
less engrossing ; we grow more and more towards
regarding our friend, as in some way a special repre-
sentative to us of our brethren in general.
137. The next propension to be noticed is 'Miseri-
cordia' — Compassion. In addition to this General Love
of our fellow-men which we have just considered — a
propension which, in its rudimental state, and on its
positive side, must be regarded as somewhat faint — in
addition to this General Love (I say) we have a propen-
sion, far keener, far more irrepressible, far more power-
fully influential, which draws us to the relief of misery
as such. We meet a fellow -man whom we never before
saw ; and experience (it may be) some calm emotion
of general benevolence. Let him unfold a tale of bitter
distress, and give us ample means for knowing its truth,
far different is our emotion. The most hard-hearted
men can only save themselves from this pain, by reso-
lutely shutting their ears to the melancholy story; it is
not in human nature, that we shall know our brother's
griefs, and not grieve ourselves.*
* " Of these two, delight in the prosperity of others, and compassion for
their distresses, the last is felt much more generally than the former.
Though men do not universally rejoice with all whom they see rejoice, yet.
accidental obstacles removed, they naturally compassionate all, in some
degree, whom they see in distress ; so far as they have any real perception
or sense of that distress : insomuch that words expressing this latter, pity,
compassion, frequently occur ; whereas we have scarce any single one, by
which the former is distinctly expressed. Congratulation, indeed, answers
condolence : but both these words are intended to signify certain forms of
civility, rather than any inward sensation or feeling. This difference or
inequality is so remarkable, that we plainly consider compassion as itself
an original distinct particular affection in human nature ; whereas to
rejoice in the good of others, is only a consequence of the general affection
of love and goodwill to them. The reason and account of which matter is
this : when a man has obtained any particular advantage or felicity, his end
is gained ; and he does not in that particular want the assistance of another :
there was therefore no need of a distinct affection towards that felicity of
another already obtained ; neither would such affection directly carry him
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 277
Now it is quite unnecessary to remark in detail, on
the powerful assistance given by this propension to the
cause of virtue, and its powerful tendency against sel-
fishness and indolent sensuality. It is more pertinent,
to point out the singular suitableness of this propension
in a world like ours. In a world where sorrow is so
general, what plain mark of benevolent design is seen
in the fact, that God has given us a propension which
tends so powerfully to alleviate sorrow !
One of you has here interposed a very ingenious
objection ; let me state and answer it. ' God created us
4 in a perfectly happy state ; excluding all possibility
4 (except through sin) of pain or grief. Hence,' argues
the objector, 'a Catholic philosopher is precluded from
4 such a line of argument as the above ; he is precluded
4 from supposing, that God created our nature with
4 express reference to the circumstance of our being
* encompassed with grief.' I reply as follows. Catholic
doctrine teaches, as you will see in due time, that Adam
was preserved in his state of happiness, not by any
peculiarity of his nature, but by a series of constant and
watchful operations exercised by God upon that nature.
Two alternatives were put before him ; and for that
very reason, his nature was so created as to suit either
alternative, and inclusively therefore the less happy one.
Since, on that alternative, misery was to abound, — it was
suitable that our nature should include this special
propension of Mercy or Compassion. More will be said
in this very Section, on the relation between Adam's
original state and our fallen condition.
It is a fact by no means to be forgotten, and which
no one to be sure could antecedently have imagined,
that under the Gospel God Himself becomes an Object
on to do good to tbat person : whereas men in distress want assistance ; and
compassion leads us directly to assist them. The object of the former is
the present felicity of another ; the object of the latter is the present misery
of another. It is easy to see that the latter wants a particular affection for
its relief, and that the former does not want one, because it does not want
assistance. And upon supposition of a distinct affection in both cases, the
one must rest in the exercise of itself, having nothing further to gain ; the
other does not rest in itself, but carries us on to assist the distressed."—
Butler's " Sermon on Compassion"
278 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
to this propension. In contemplating our Blessed
Lord's sufferings, and particularly the various stages of
His Passion, the feeling of Compassion occupies a very
prominent place.
138. The last propension of this class which I shall
mention, is ' Gratitude ;' the peculiar pleasure we derive,
from requiting in kind any favours we have received.
A mere allusion will suffice, on so plain a matter, (1) to
the great assistance derived from this propension to
various acts of social virtue ; and (2) to the great
degree in which it cheers and consoles all work done for
His sake, 4 Who, being rich, for our sake became poor.'
139. We have now recited six propensions; (1)
Duty; (2) Self-charity; (3) Personal Love; (4) General
Love; (5) Compassion; (6) Gratitude: and we have
seen the immense assistance which they give us in
living for Almighty God. Our general thesis, you
remember, is this ; that all our propensions without ex-
ception are calculated, each in its own way, to give us help
and support in that holy enterprise. As yet certainly
we have done very little to demonstrate that thesis.
' No one ever doubted,' an objector may reply, 4 that
c many of our propensions lead towards good; the only
4 question worth considering is, whether there are not
1 others which with equal force lead towards evil. On
' this, the only important question, nothing has yet been
* said.' I reply, by fully admitting the force of the
objection. My object hitherto has chiefly been, to put
before you a map (as it were) of these essentially bene-
ficial propensions, and of the place which they occupy
in the interior life ; thus shewing the careful provision
made by our Creator, for giving us rest and joy in His
service. My object, I say, as yet has been this rather
than any very strong controversial argument in behalf
of our thesis. Our next step however will advance us
considerably in the way of proof. For I proceed to
ask, what are those propensions, which on the whole
are most widely and deeply influential — have put forth
the most permanent and sustained power — in leading
men away from God. I will shew you that those
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 279
very propensions are capable of rendering most impor-
tant assistance towards His love and service.
You will at first perhaps answer, that the propension
of the flesh (as I may call it), — the propension which
tempts us to violate the Sixth Commandment, — is the
most pervasive and powerful enemy to virtue. I do
not think that would be a true answer ; for fearful as
have been the effects produced by that propension, it
cannot from its very nature have that constant, unre-
lenting, pervasive power, which is exercised by certain
other propensions. We will not of course leave it
unnoticed ; but, on the contrary, we will consider it in its
due place, with a care proportioned to its importance.
But first we will direct our attention to those propen-
sions, which often become the main-spring of a man's
whole conduct of life-, which often colour the whole
tissue of his existence. Of this kind, spiritual writers
prominently mention three : (1) Love of Honour or
Fame; (2) Love of Power; (3) Love of Wealth. I
commence then with the Love of Honour.
140. This propension certainly acts, with a con-
stancy and intensity which perfectly amazes one, in
leading men to direct their conduct towards an end
quite distinct from their Creator's service. It is often
remarked, how miserably impurity clouds the intellect ;
but this propension clouds it immeasurably more. Men
will tell you, as of quite an honourable fact, that they
look on infamy as the greatest of evils, and that the
approbation of their fellow-creatures is their one para-
mount end of action. Well do I remember a veteran
Protestant politician, writing a letter to the newspapers,
which professed quite a tone of conscious and indignant
virtue. It ran in substance thus : ' True, I am an
' old man ; I must soon leave this visible scene ; but
1 for that very reason, it is a more sacred duty that I
' leave my reputation intact.' He was a man who firmly
believed in the doctrine of a future state; and he was (I
take for granted) fully confident, of being pretty sure
after death to be admitted into Heaven and the com-
pany of Saints and Angels. And yet, for that very reason
280 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
forsooth, it was the more his sacred duty, to leave his
reputation intact on this sinful and miserable earth. It
is just as though a crawling worm were on the point of
being raised by God to the dignity and privilege of a
rational creature ; and were to say, 'for that very reason
it is the more a sacred duty, to preserve my reputation
among my fellow crawlers unsullied and intact.' But
the same motive animates all classes and all professions.
So a soldier will go through deeds of fabulous daring,
and (which is more strange) will undergo sufferings of
most fearful severity, — sustained throughout by one
sweet hope, that of his fellow-countrymen's applause, Or,
(going to an extremely opposite instance) a philosopher
will give his whole energy to the working out of
some grand intellectual system, in the hope of one
principal reward — posthumous fame. It is related, I
believe, of that profound thinker Kant, that he was
quite thrown off his balance with anxiety and distress,
when some danger appeared, lest he should lose with
posterity his fair claim to originality of discovery.
A more monstrous, more frantic, antagonism to God,
than this idolatry of human honour, cannot well be
imagined. He placed us men on earth, that we might
make His Will and Preference the ruling principle of
our lives. We, the creatures of His hand, give hardly
so much as a passing thought through the day to that
Will and Preference. So far as we are slaves to this pro-
pension, our main motive of action is avowedly, profes-
sedly, the approbation of our fellow-worms, our fellow-
sinners. The whole world is seated in wickedness ; and
yet we do not blush to make the applause of that world
the incentive to our whole conduct. The extensiveness
of this idolatry, is as amazing as its intensity. It ex-
tends from such cases as the great soldier or illustrious
philosopher, through all intermediate ranks, down to
the very school-boy ; who is ashamed to express his
own sense of what is due to God,— not from fear of being
molested by his fellow-boys, for the same thing takes place
where there is no danger of molestation ; — no ; but from
simple alarm at the thought of their sneers, their deri-
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 281
sion. And long after we have ceased to be school-boys,
how often have we felt (some of course more, others
less,) that before the sneer and derision of our fellow-
men, we become almost ashamed of our strongest prin-
ciples, almost distrustful of our highest aspirations.
Even men aiming at perfection, during the lower stages
of their growth at least, are infested by this deadly foe ;
which forces itself as it were into companionship with
their best ends, and sullies with its foul presence many
of their highest actions.*
* On some of the more ordinary and petty manifestations of this vice,
how accurate is Surin's description ; and how amusing if it were not so
sad ! " Le second effet de la vanit6 est 1'amour et le desir des louanges.
Quand un homme est occupe de lui-me'me, et que ses propres perfections
sont 1'entretien ordinaire de son esprit, il desire que ses perfections soient
connues et loupes. La complaisance qu'il a en lui-meme ne manque point
de produire ce desir ; et quand on le loue, il se repait de cettefumee. L' appro-
bation du monde, 1'applaudissement, les louanges, sont pour lui un breuvage
delicieux, qui 1'enivre de 1'amour de lui-meme. II est toujours aupres a
ecumer les jugemens qu'on fait de lui, et quand il a fait quelque action
publique, quand il a compose quelque pi£ce, il est toujours en ardeur de
savoir ce qu'on en dit. Si Ton n'en parle pas avantageusement, il en sent
une vive douleur, qui vient de sa vanite. Si Ton en juge favorablement, il se
fera dire et redire sans cesse ce qui flatte, pour se repaUre de ce vent. II se
blame, pour s'attirer de louanges, a/in qu'en le contredisant, on lui verre
plus abondamment de cette liqueur qu'il boit avec tant de plaisir dans la
coupe de la vanite.
"Mais quand deux esprits vains se rencontrent ensemble, et se met-
tent a se louer a Venvi, c'est alors que vous voyez la vanite" dans son
triomphe. Ecoutez deux poe'tes qui se louent : ils se placent 1'un auprea
de 1'autre dans le temple de m^moire ; ils se donnent de 1'encens a pleines
mains, et se traitent comme des dieux. S'ils louent leurs heros, ils en font
des divinites.
" C'est la coutume de natter ainsi les grands par des louanges excessives
pour leur complaire ; car rien ne touche plus les esprits foibles des gens du
monde que les louanges. Les femmes sont ravies d'etre louees de beaute ;
les courtesans de politesse, et de galanterie ; les guerriers, de bravoure ; les
ministres d'etat, de grand genie. On leur represente la posterite occupee d.
les admirer. Tous ces vains discours vont a leur persuader, que-ce souvenir
avantageux qu'on aura d'eux, est la plus douce chose qu'il y ait au monde.
Et cela, n'est-ce pas une vanite deplorable ? Pendant que les homines les
loueront sur la terre, ils seront peut-Stre dans les flammes etemelles.
1 Laudantur ubi non sunt, torquentur ubi sunt.' (S. August.) L'amour
propre les enchante tellement, qu'encore qu'ils soient malheureux en eux-
memes, ils se font un plaisir imaginaire des louanges qu'on leur promet
apres leur mort.
" Quels efforts ne fait-on pas pour avoir place dans 1'histoire ? On sent
une agreable satisfaction de voir son nom dans une Gazette. C'est un
plaisir bien mince qui tournera peut-etre a votre confusion : mais enfin
cela contente ; et en merne temps qu'il contente, il fait d'etranges ravages
dans 1'ame : il eloigne de la verite ; il bannit Vhumilite chretienne. Aussi
ceux qui marchent dans la lumi^re de la vraie sagesse, fuient cela comme le
poison qui fait mourir toutes le virtus" — Dialogues Spirituels, vol. 2, pp. 3-5.
282 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Yet consider well this very remarkable fact. We
have seen that this propension, as usually directed, more
than almost any other is God's deadly foe. We may
now add, that in that very degree it is among the most
unmistakable illustrations of our general principle.
We are maintaining, that all our propensions have an
important place in the cause of virtue : and that, in
regard to most of them, our work here below is, not to
aim at lessening their force in the very slightest degree ;
but singly and exclusively to aim at fixing them on
their proper objects. In the present case, is there not
an Object ready at hand, which is as manifestly, as un-
deniably, adequate to the intense strength of this pro-
pension, as its ordinary objects are grotesquely ^ade-
quate? Our Creator is more closely present to us,
than we are to each other ; the Soul of our most loving
Saviour penetrates every hidden corner of our hearts ;
Mary sees in God all that most closely concerns us;
Our Guardian Angel, the Blessed Saints, all know in
various degrees what we do, and what we think. How
can we, who have the approbation of the whole Court
of Heaven as a prize to contend for, so demean our-
selves, as to open our hearts mainly to the vain, transi-
tory, delusive, praise of our fellow-men ?
Here we see an ascetical truth of some little im-
portance. If I am at this moment fluttering with vain
glory; my emotions highly enflamed; my very body
throbbing, as it were, under the magnetic influence of
human applause ; I am not called to aim at lessening
that emotion. No : let me contemplate, with the eye of
faith, my Creator, my Kedeenier, my Heavenly Mother,
the whole blessed Company of Angels and Saints,
looking down on me, and prepared to approve or cen-
sure me as my conduct may deserve. In that vision
of faith I am wrapped securely. That very propension,
which was the devil's chief engine of attack, becomes
the Holy Ghost's most powerful weapon in putting Him
to flight.
This contrast is from time to time expressed in the
New Testament. Thus John, c. xii. v. 43. " Dilexerunt
" enim gloriam hominum magis quam gloriam Dei ;"
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 283
and Romans, c. ii. v. 29, " Sed qui in abscondito,
" Judaeus est : circumcisio cordis in spiritu, non littera ;
" cujus laus non ex hominibus, sed ex Deo est"
You will not of course suppose ine to deny for a
moment, that the approbation of good men in all ordi-
nary cases is to be greatly prized ; and specially in this
point of view, as the pledge and representative to us
of God's approbation. In this, as on so many other
matters, it will appertain to our later course to complete
what our earlier begins. When we come to consider the
morality of human acts, we shall be led to some definite
and important results, on the principles of judgment
here to be adopted ; on the principles whereby we may
distinguish, that idolatry of human applause which is so
dangerous and detestable, from that love of good meris
approbation, which is in itself perfectly legitimate, and
in its results inestimably valuable.
141. The next propension to be treated is Love of
Power. This does not seem comparable to the former,
either in intensity or pervasiveness ; indeed it is but a
comparatively small portion of mankind, who are in a
position to gratify it at all in the more ordinary sense.
It is quite plain however, that every man who is in a
position to gratify it by influencing others to his own
private ends, may equally gratify it by influencing them
towards public ends and towards their Creator s service.
The propension before us is gratified, in proportion as
we know that we are able to move at will a large
number of our fellow-men : it is plain then that the
gratification is precisely the same, whether that power
be exerted in this or in that direction. He who fulfils
his duty, by using the full influence of his station or
circumstances to the promotion of God's Glory, is in no
slight degree assisted and cheered in that holy work,
by the propension which we are considering. Certainly
there is great need of watchfulness, lest this gratification
be tainted with pride ; still in itself it is undeniably
legitimate.
But a further remark is still more in point. The
Gospel assures us, of what reason alone would render
284 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
very probable, the great efficacy of intercessory prayer.
And it is most important that we should perform this
duty, not in a dry perfunctory way, but with a keen
and lively interest. Now such keen and lively interest
must necessarily arise, in proportion as we have a
practical and living persuasion, that our prayer will
as really and truly promote God's Glory, tend to the
salvation of souls, affect the course of events, redress
ecclesiastical evils, move the whole fortunes of the
Church, as the most lively and energetic work can
possibly do. It is plain then how very desirable it is,
that we cherish in ourselves this practical and living
persuasion ; and it is no less plain, that we are indefinitely
assisted in doing so, by the keen pleasure which the
propension before us experiences from that persuasion.
This I take to be the primary and truly legitimate
scope of this propension; — the stimulating us to inter-
cessory prayer.
142. There remained Love of Money. This however
must be decomposed into two separate elements.
Money is chiefly sought as a mere c bonum utile ;' as
serviceable towards further ends. There is an inde-
finitely large number of pleasurable or serviceable
things, of which I have learnt by experience that they
are purchaseable by money. The desire of all these
things inflows virtually (see n. Ill) into those various
acts of mine, whereby I desire money ; and (to come
more immediately to our present subject) the thought
of money is made pleasurable, by the combined and
confused thought of these various pleasures. This it
is no doubt, which chiefly causes the intensity and
universality of money-hunting : it is a sort of com-
pound propension, uniting the force and strength of so
many simple ones.
This is the sense in which love of riches is de-
nounced by our Lord in terms of such astounding
severity. It is most important, that we should preserve
a clear and constant memory of these denunciations ;
and I will therefore say some little to remind you of
them. At the same time you must understand, that I
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 285
have neither leisure nor (indeed) ability to do them
anything like justice.
Three different Evangelists have recorded our
Lord's saying, that it is easier for a camel to go through
a needle's eye than for a rich man to enter the kingdom
of Heaven (Matt. c. xix. v. 24. Mark, c. x. v. 25.
Luke, c. xviii. v. 25) ; and all three record that He
proceeded to declare, ' with man it is impossible, but
with God all things are possible.' A rich man's salva-
tion tests (if we so express ourselves) the Omnipotence
of God. Again (Luke, c. vi. v. 24, 25), ' Verumtamen
' V93 vobis divitibus, quia habetis consolationem vestram.
1 Vae vobis qui saturati estis, quia esurietis. Yse vobis
' qui ridetis nunc, quia lugebitis et flebitis.'
Observe also, as has been frequently remarked, in
the parable of Dives and Lazarus, how closely con-
nected with eternal perdition is the mere possession of
wealth. Nothing more is said of Dives, than that he
was clothed in purple and fine linen, and feasted
splendidly every day (Luke, xvi. v. 19). Then as the
natural result of this we are told (v. 22) that after his
death he was buried in Hell.
In all such passages, our Blessed Saviour is speak-
ing ("no doubt) of riches in their natural tendency. He
who is abundantly supplied with all the necessaries
and many superfluities of life; — who seems to be so
circumstanced, that the slightest wish or whim can be
readily gratified ; — what is the state of mind into which
such a man will naturally fall? He will become,
unless he makes very special resistance, proud, self-
satisfied, luxurious ; above all, and characteristically,
he will look on this world as his home. There can
hardly be a character more deeply hateful in the eyes
of God. Consider in this connection, Apoc. c. iii.
v. 17, 18, ' Quia dicis : Quod dives sum, et locu-
c pletatus, et nullius egeo ; et nescis quia tu es miser, et
' miserabilis, et pauper, et csecus, et nudus ; Suadeo
4 tibi emere a me aurum igniturn probatum, ut locuples
' fias, et vestimentis albis induaris, et non appareat
286 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
6 confusio miditatis tuse; et collyrio inunge oculos tuos,
4 ut videas.'
On the other hand, a poor man feels at every step
his utter and abject dependence ; and having little
solace in this world, he is the rather disposed to seek
such solace in the things of God. Of course the rich
man may contend against his special temptations, and
the poor man may throw away his special advantages ;
but the tendency of the two conditions respectively
is as above stated.
Elsewhere indeed our Lord explains His words.
He explains them, as applying not so much to the
wealthy or poor person, as to what may be called the
wealthy or poor spirit. Thus in St. Mark, immediately
before his statement on the camel's eye, he explains
what he means by the rich man ; viz. one who trusts
in riches (c. x. v. 24) : * Discipuli autem obstupes-
4 cebant in verbis ejus. At Jesus rursus respondens
4 ait illis ; Filioli, quam difficile est, confidentes in
' pecuniis in regnurn Dei introire.' Again, whereas
in Luke, c. vi. v. 20, He says, 4 Blessed are ye poor ;'
in Matt. c. v. ver. 3, it is, * Blessed are the poor in
spirit? And whereas in Luke, c. vi. v. 21, He says,
4 Blessed are ye who now hunger,' in Matt. c. v.
v. 6, it is 4 Blessed are they who hunger and thirst
after justice:1 those, e.g. who, from the very fact of
being without comfort and rest here, are led to seek
them in the service of God.
On the whole however, we cannot surely, in any
fairness, draw from these awful statements a milder
conclusion than the following. If there be any rich
man, who is not sensitively alive to the special tempta-
tions of his state; — who does not carefully examine how
far he is exposed to them; — who does not (if he be so
exposed) carry out carefully some special discipline in
regard to those temptations; — such a man has reason
to be in most serious alarm, as to his attaining final
perseverance. Even though he be in Habitual Grace
now, he has reason for the most anxious doubts, whether
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUB NATURE TO VIRTUE. 287
this will continue to the last. To this subject we shall
have more than once to recur.
There is another form taken by this compound
propension, love of money : it not only leads those
who have money in abundance, to be proud and
worldly ; it leads those who have it not, to seek it in a
restless, feverish, absorbing, spirit. Against this also
Our Blessed Lord directs his strongest warnings. Thus
Matt. c. v. ver. 25, 26. 6 Ide6 dico vobis, ne solliciti
' sitis animse vestrae quid manducetis, nee corpori vestro
' quid induamini. Nonne anima plus est quani esca?
4 et corpus plus quam vestimentum ? Respicite vo-
' latilia coeli, &c.' And the same thought is pursued
for several further verses to the end of the chapter.
Again, Matt. c. xiii. v. 22 : c Qui autem seminatus est
4 in spinis, hie est, qui verbum audit, et sollicitudo
4 saeculi istius, et fallacia divitiarum, suffocat verbum,
' et sine fructu efficitur.'
This exercise of the propension before us, — the
laborious and unrestrained working for wealth, — pro-
duces in the spiritual life effects, not less disastrous
perhaps than the former, but plainly of quite a different
kind. The restless occupation, the breathless anxiety,
the feverish excitement, all these present as broad a
contrast as can well be imagined, to that tranquil,
recollected, interior, spirit, which is the atmosphere
wherein alone prayer and meditation can breathe. The
great majority of mankind undoubtedly are, from cir-
cumstances, obliged to labour in weariness and uncer-
tainty for their daily bread. What is that kind of
spiritual discipline, whereby they may best be pre-
served from these terrible spiritual dangers — this is
one of the most important, and perhaps one of the most
difficult, questions, on which Ascetic Theology, has to
treat.
As one of my chief objects in this Section, is to give
the best map I can of our various propensions, it was
of course out of the question that I should omit one, so
vitally important in its bearing on spirituality as this
compound propension. It is equally plain however,
288 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
that it cannot come within the scope of our immediate
argument ; not being an original propension at all. So
far as we have yet treated it, it is not a propension
which God has implanted in our nature, but one which
we form for ourselves, by our mode of exercising those
which He has implanted. Our thesis only calls on us
to prove, that all those which He has implanted are
capable of most virtuous use ; and as this is not one of
their number, it is not included in the statement. In
proportion as we shall have exercised our original pro-
pensions according to God's wish and desire, this com-
pound and derived propension will not have been called
into existence.
It is commonly held however by psychologians, and
I think with truth, that the desire of money is not
wholly analyzed, by ascribing it to the desire of those
various gratifications which money can purchase. It
is held that there is a propension, implanted by God in
our nature, which we may call 'love of acquisition;'
that we are susceptible of a special pleasure, from
hoarding and accumulating what we can call our own;
from guarding and adding to a store of property. In-
deed this seems clear in the extreme case of a miser;
since he loses his relish for those enjoyments which
money can procure, in his idolatry of money itself.
What then is the legitimate use of this propension ?
Our Saviour Himself seems to tell us (Matthew,
c. vi. v. 19), 'Nolite thesaurizare vobis thesauros in
' terra, ubi aerugo, et tinea demolitur, et ubi fures
4 effodiunt et furantur ; thesaurizate autem vobis the-
4 sauros in ccelo; ubi neque aerugo neque tinea de-
' molitur,' &c. Even apart from Revelation, Reason
would shew that there are many things which are more
specially ours than money can ever be; which may
more truly be called property; which will more ade-
quately satisfy our love of accumulation : virtuous
habits, a contented disposition, a disengaged heart—
these are treasures indeed. First, they are intrinsic to
ourselves, and cannot by physical possibility be snatched
from our grasp ; and secondly, when once gained, they
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 289
are not diminished but increased, in proportion as we
draw upon our store. There is a pleasure, which is un-
doubtedly attainable, by hoarding and accumulating;—
here a little and there a little; — so much to-day and so
much more to-morrow; — by watching for every oppor-
tunity, and taking sedulous advantage of it, which may
be made the means of further accumulation. But I
maintain that this pleasure can be far more satisfac-
torily enjoyed, in the gradual acquirement and increase
of virtuous habits, than of perishable gold. And now
let us consider, in addition to this, what the Gospel
discloses, as to these spiritual and heavenly treasures.
Let us ponder on that great Gift of Habitual Grace,
which is increased by every supernatural act we do.
Let us carry on our thoughts to those future treasures
in Heaven, spoken of by Our Blessed Saviour ; those
treasures, whereof Habitual Grace is the seed and the
measure. Such thoughts will soon make clear to us,
what is the full and adequate object of the propension
before us.
143. I said that the chief obstacles to piety enume-
rated by ascetical writers are, (1) Love of Honour or
Fame; (2) Love of Power; (3) Love of Wealth; and
these three propensions we have now considered. Per-
haps indeed there is a fourth, which both is, and is com-
monly admitted to be, an equally (or a more) powerful
antagonist: I mean Pride. What is that propension
whereof pride is the perversion, and what is its legiti-
mate scope, I will consider somewhat later in the pre-
sent Section. That which I will next treat, shall be
Love of Knowledge; or (as it may perhaps be more suit-
ably called) Love of Intellectual Exertion : a propension,
which exercises its full power indeed over extremely
few ; but almost makes up, by its violence and intensity,
for the narrowness of its operations. Nothing, e. g. is
more commonly remarked, than the very close and (as
it were) natural connexion, between great mathematical
power and extreme infidelity. How is such a fact to
be explained ? There are few questions in Ethical
u
290 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Psychology more important than this ; and I incline to
think the true explanation is as follows.
There is a certain small number of men, endued
with singularly high intellectual gifts, on whom various
choice intellectual processes confer a degree of plea-
sure, resembling that which ordinary men derive from
sensual indulgences. I mean such processes as these ;
viewing a large field of truth in its mutual relations ;
pressing judgments to their various consequences ;
analyzing the more recondite phenomena of the mind,
&c. &c. These indulgences however differ from sen-
sual, in this most important particular ; viz. that they are
capable of very protracted and sustained continuance.
The sensualist obtains but transient and fitful excite-
ments; and in the interval feels languor, perhaps re-
morse. But these intellectualists may give themselves
up for an indefinite period to their darling pursuit. If
then they choose to do this in a reckless inordinate
way, simply for the sake of the pleasure thence to be
derived, and with no reference to moral duty or the
will of God, what is the result ? They become more
thoroughly obdurate — more thoroughly insensible to
higher and more spiritual motives — than perhaps any
class of men which can be named. The principle, on
which this result takes place, will be considered in our
work c De Actibus Hunianis.'
Next ensues a further result — diabolical pride.
The intellect is an instrument of tremendous power.
' Instrument ' is exactly the proper word to express
my meaning: the intellect is an instrument, just as
any mechanical power is one. It is as simply absurd,
to make the quality of a man's intellect in itself
the matter either of praise or blame, as to praise or
blame a steam-engine: the true matter for praise and
blame, is the use which he makes of this powerful in-
strument; whether in God's service or the Devil's.
But I say, the power of this instrument is enormous;
immensely greater than unintellectual men can even
imagine. Consider then, how great must be the in-
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 291
toxication of wielding a power of this kind, in the case
of such men as I suppose ; in the case of men, who
do not so much as attern.pt any practices of religion, —
meditation, or examen of conscience, or the like, —
and who are free from severe bodily sickness or
other temporal trouble. They know by experience the
wonderful influence of intellectual power ; and they
look up to themselves intensely for possessing it. Here
again is another distinction, which separates these men
for the worse from the class of sensualists. No sen-
sualist can respect himself, — look up to himself, — on
the ground of his bestial excesses ; whereas pride is the
ordinary, nay the necessary accompaniment of great
intellectual power, whenever the humbling exercises of
piety are neglected.
Here then are two qualities which naturally ensue :
(1) insensibility to all spiritual motives; and (2) pride.
How easily do these two united lead to unbelief. The
pride of these men would be most painfully wounded,
by the manifest contradiction involved, in believing
one thing, when they practise another; while of course
their indisposition to practise religion is the greatest
imaginable. This being so, how obvious that they
should have recourse to a most easy and simple alter-
native! They ponder on the various objections (in
themselves surely most plausible) which may be
brought, not so much against Christianity in par-
ticular, as against Theism in general. At the same
time, they give no careful thought at all to those
replies which have been made by Christian writers;
contenting themselves with the conclusion, that the
whole thing is buried in hopeless uncertainty.
Here is one obvious cause of their unbelief ; an-
other will be found in the following consideration.
The mysteries of the Gospel, nay the doctrines of Na-
tural Religion, appear, to their blind, carnal, grovelling,
and proud intellect, quite low and contemptible; such
as it is impossible to believe, without doing violence to
their whole nature. ' A fit story/ they think, 4 for the
* cradle and the nursery ; for the earliest years of each
292 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
1 individual, or the earliest years of the human race :
4 man has outgrown these puerilities.'
Indeed all, who are conscious of great intellectual
power, and who have any kind of interest in their own
perfection, — must be most painfully aware by expe-
rience, how troublesome and anxious an element is
such intellectual power in their mental composition.
It may be made no doubt an invaluable servant : but
it is ever trying to rise into the position of master; and
on no account must this be permitted.
If then this propension be not comparable, as to the
extensiveness of its evil effects, with those which we
considered immediately before — with Love of Honour,
of Power, of Money — almost in the same proportion it
exceeds these propensions in the intensity of its mis-
chief; in the utter ruinousness of those effects which
it produces, on men who unreservedly surrender them-
selves to its influence. It makes a perfect wreck of
their spiritual character : it degrades them to the very
lowest moral level possible on earth; to that state of
mind, known in Theology as cobduratio' and ^excsecatio.'
If then it can be shewn, that even this propension is
capable of important service to morality, — certainly no
inconsiderable addition will have been made to the
progress of our argument.
Now those frightful results of this propension which
we have been considering, are seen only in those, who
give themselves up to it almost exclusively. They are
commonly but little gifted with the propension either of
Personal or of General Love ; and they allow this Love
of Intellectual Exertion to override despotically all the
rest. There may be an exception to this statement, (not
however affecting our argument,) so far as it is true,
that various persons of great intellectual power have
from time to time yielded themselves slaves to a low
sensuality. But at all events, in the hardened men we
are considering, all the higher propensions except the
one before us are dormant ; and the Love of Intellectual
Exertion reigns paramount and supreme. It is obvious
then to enquire, what are the effects of this propension, on
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 293
those who gratify it, — not in this reckless, inordinate,
overbearing way, — but with due moderation, and
merely as one part of their moral nature.
In regard to those who must support themselves
by the labour of their hands, hardly any answer can
be given to this enquiry ; the main current of their life
is such, as to disable them altogether from gratifying
this propension, except in the most partial and occa-
sional manner. The main case to be considered then,
is that of the leisured classes; and I do not think it too
much to say, that if this propension were away, and no
other change wrought in human nature, the immense
majority of these classes would find the consistent
practice of virtue morally impossible. In behalf of this
conclusion I argue thus.
How many men are there, so created by God, that
they can keep up through the day a constant course of
Divine contemplation? Just so many, as have a voca-
tion to the purely contemplative life ; i. e. an extremely
small minority.
Now let us turn our thoughts again to the labour-
ing classes ; and I will use this word in its widest sense,
so as to include all whose day is spent, either in manual
labour, or in other active and practical work of a busy
and external kind. How are these men able to serve
God, — through the day, through the month, through the
year, — consistently and perseveringly ? For our answer
let me refer to n. 129 (p. 257). They may aim at referring
their various acts virtually and most really to God ; and
the quiet tranquil gratification, which their Creator has
ordinarily attached to the orderly performance of their
regular duties, will cheer and sustain them in their course.
If this gratification were away, there would be ordi-
narily (I suppose) no sufficient moral power, of refer-
ring the course of their lives really to God.
I ask then, what substitute for this gratification is
available to the leisured classes ? Take away this one
propension which we are considering, I believe that no
other can be named. The propension of Personal Love,
as directed to one or more of our fellow-creatures, is
294 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
certainly very far from being one which can be called
into active exertion through the day; the very attempt
to do so, does but land us in deep misery, unreality,
and false sentimentality. Will you propose aesthetic
employments — music, drawing, and the like? I believe
the number is but small in the leisured classes, who
could derive enjoyment from making such occupa-
tions as these the business of their lives ; most charm-
ing and refreshing though they be as recreations, and
as affording a grateful vicissitude to severer studies.
According to God's merciful design however, the whole
field of science and literature is open to these classes;
each one may cultivate that, which best suits his taste,
his circumstances, his powers, or the degree of his
intellectual acquirements ; and most beneficial is the
result. That very peculiarity of the propension, which
constitutes (as we have seen) its chief evil, — I mean
its singular power of receiving long-continued and
protracted gratification — this very peculiarity confers a
most important service in the way we have described.*
* Father Newman had the same truth in view, I suppose, when he
wrote the following most powerfully expressed passage. He has not, indeed,
made it sufficiently clear, whether he is speaking of mankind in general
or exclusively of the leisured classes. If the former, I venture to think its
wording is open to great exception ; for it would (on that interpretation)
seem to state, that few Christians of uncultivated intellect have the moral
power of avoiding mortal sin : though of course he could not possibly have
meant this. If we take it as applying to the leisured classes alone, it
conveys, I think, an important truth.
" Now on opening the subject, we see at once a momentous benefit
which the philosopher is likely to confer on the pastors of the Church. It
is obvious that the first step which they have to effect in the conversion of
man and the renovation of his nature, is its rescue from that fearful subjec-
tion to sense which is its ordinary state. To be able to break through the
meshes of that thraldom, and to disentangle and to disengage its ten
thousand holds upon the heart, is to bring it, I might almost say, half-way
to Heaven. Here, even divine grace, to speak of things according to their
appearances, is ordinarily baffled, and retires, without expedient or resource,
before this giant fascination. Religion seems too high and unearthly to be
able to exert a continued influence upon us : its effort to rouse the soul, and
the soul's effort to co-operate, are too violent to last. It is like holding out
the arm at full length, or supporting some great weight, which we manage
to do for a time, but soon are exhausted and succumb. Nothing can act
beyond its own nature ; when then we are called to what is supernatural,
though those extraordinary aids from heaven are given us, with which
obedience becomes possible, yet even with them it is of transcendant diffi-
culty. We are drawn down to earth every moment with the ease and
certainty of a natural gravitation, and it is only by sudden impulses and
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 295
Here is the first benefit, and surely an inappreciable
one, conferred by the propension before us: it gives
(as it were) forcible plunges that we attempt to mount upwards. Religion
indeed enlightens, terrifies, subdues ; it gives faith, it inflicts remorse, it
inspires resolutions, it draws tears, it inflames devotion, but only for the
occasion. The sinful spirit repents, and protests it will never sin again, and
for a while is protected by disgust and abhorrence from the malice of its foe.
But that foe knows too well, that such seasons of repentance are wont to
have their end : he patiently waits, till nature faints with the effort of
resistance, and lies passive and hopeless under the next access of temptation.
What we need then is some expedient or instrument, which at least will
obstruct and stave off the approach of our spiritual enemy, and which is
sufficiently congenial and level with our nature to maintain as firm a hold
upon us as the inducements of sensual gratification. It will be our wisdom
to employ nature against itself. Thus sorrow, sickness, and care are provi-
dential antagonists to our inward disorders ; they come upon us as years
pass on, and generally produce their effects on us, in proportion as we are
subjected to their influence. These, however, are God's instruments, not
ours ; we need a similar remedy, which we can make our own, the object of
some legitimate faculty, or the aim of some natural affection, which is cap-
able of resting on the mind, and taking up its familiar lodging with it, and
engrossing it, and which thus becomes a match for the besetting power of
sensuality, and a sort of homoeopathic medicine for the disease. Here then
I think is the important aid which intellectual cultivation furnishes to us
in rescuing the victims of passion and self-will. It does not supply religious
motives ; it is not the cause or proper antecedent of anything supernatural ;
it is not meritorious of heavenly aid or reward ; but it does a work, at least
materially good (as theologians speak), whatever be its real and formal
character. It expels the excitements of sense by the introduction of those
of the intellect.
" This then is the prima f<icie advantage of the pursuit of knowledge ;
it is the drawing the mind off from things which will harm it to subjects
which are worthy a rational being ; and, though it does not raise it above
nature, nor has any tendency to make us pleasing to our Maker, yet is it
nothing to substitute what is in itself harmless for what is, to say the least,
inexpressibly dangerous ? is it a little thing to exchange a circle of ideas
which are certainly sinful, for others which are certainly not so 1 You will
say, perhaps, in the words of the Apostle, ' Knowledge puffeth up : ' and
doubtless this mental cultivation, even when it is successful for the purpose
for which I am applying it, may be from the first nothing more than the
substitution of pride for sensuality. I grant it. I think I shall have some-
thing to say on this point presently ; but this is not a necessary result, it is
but an incidental evil, a danger which may be realised, or may be averted,
whereas we may in most cases predicate guilt, and guilt of a heinous kind,
where the mind is suffered to run wild and indulge its thoughts without
training or law of any kind ; and surely to turn away a soul from mortal
sin, is a good and a gain so far, whatever comes of it. And, therefore, if a
friend in need is twice a friend, I conceive that intellectual employments,
though they do no more than occupy the mind with objects naturally noble
or innocent, have a special claim upon our consideration and gratitude." —
Newman on University Education, pp. 295 to 298.
It may be objected perhaps that, in certain states of society, the leisured
classes may not have the means of intellectual cultivation. Such cases
however, if they exist, are in the highest degree exceptional ; and God no
doubt gives exceptional grace to meet them.
296 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
the leisured classes the moral power of consistently
obeying God. But the great majority, alas ! whether
of the leisured or any other class, do not choose to aim
at consistent obedience. Let us consider then, secondly,
the benefit conferred by this propension, even on this
indevout majority. As things are now, the leisured
class are the greatest benefactors of mankind; they
apply their energies, in fifty different ways, to the in-
vestigation of principles and truths, from which spring
the greatest advantages to society. But let the propen-
sion before us cease, what would this class become ? they
would sink into the selfish and sensual recipients of
bodily enjoyment. Now plainly this latter state, as
compared with the former, is a most formidable barrier
to the efficacious entrance of Divine Grace. The for-
mer state is not a state of piety, or a state which leads
to salvation; — very far from it: but it surely opposes
indefinitely less obstacles than the latter, to the Holy
Ghost's pressing solicitations.
A third benefit of this propension, and not yielding
in importance to any, is the assistance which it has
given in forming the Church's Theology; — Dogmatical,
Moral, Ascetical, and the rest. I must reserve, to its
proper place in the second Book, the task of putting
before you the great importance of Theology; an im-
portance, which it is difficult indeed to exaggerate, and
of which every additional opportunity for experience
and reflection will but increase your sense. But con-
sider the great labour and self-denial through which
this work has been accomplished; consider the great
pain often involved, in those processes of abstraction,
generalization, observation, comparison, which are the
necessary conditions of success ; consider the many hours
of painful perplexity and anxious hesitation; consider
the pressure of bad health, and sacrifice of more easily
obtained enjoyments. What could possibly have sup-
ported a body of thinkers through this exhausting
labour, except the gratification afforded by the pro-
pension before us ? This or that man, saintly in attain-
ment, may have been able so to labour, for the pure
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 297
love of God and performance of duty ; but what
large succession of men could have been found so to
act?
144. In closing our consideration of this propen-
sion, we close that of our whole second class ; for we
have treated those which (with one exception*) have
of all the greatest strength in drawing the soul from
God. Our thesis will next be corroborated, and
even more strongly, by moving onward to a further
class; to those propensions, which at first sight seem
of all the most inevitably and exclusively evil in their
result. Of these we may specially single out three;
Anger, Envy, Pride : the two first would seem to have
no scope, except injury to our fellow-creatures ; nor the
third, except rebellion against our Creator, If these
three propensions have legitimate gratifications, a for-
tiori (it may be inferred) must all others have such.
The instance of Anger is so important, that we must
treat it at some little length ; the other two will be far
more briefly dispatched. f
That Anger is not necessarily evil, is plain enough
from Scripture. Thus St. Paul (Eph. iv. 26) quoting from
the Psalms, says, * Irascimini, et nolite peccare ;' while
nevertheless in verse 31 he adds, ' Omnis . . . ira . . .
'tollatur a vobis:' implying evidently that there is a
lawful and an unlawful anger. And our blessed Lord
Himself is represented as vouchsafing to experience the
emotion of anger (Mark, iii. 5): ' circumspiciens eos
' cum ird, contristatus super caecitate cordis eorum:'
He experienced the emotion of holy resentment, at their
base hypocrisy, their deep, malicious, blind, bigotry.
So again (John, ii. 14-17) He drove the money-
changers and others from the Temple ; shewing such
marks of visible resentment, that the Apostles remem-
bered that Scripture, 4Zelus domus tuae comedit me:'
* I mean that of Pride ; which we are very soon to consider.
t The whole treatment of ' Anger,' which follows in the text, is taken
from Butler's ' sermon on Resentment ;' which I am often inclined to think
both the most original and the most valuable of all his writings. It
should be read in connection with his * sermon on Forgiveness of
Injuries.'
298 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
as if they paraphrased it ; c zeal for the honour of Thy
' House, and consequent resentment at its contumelious
' treatment, have devoured me.'*
We shall see indeed, as we proceed, that this pro-
pension is simply identical with ' Love of Justice.' It
is simply identical, I say, with a desire, that goodness
as such may be rewarded, and that wickedness as
such may be punished ; and with a resulting pleasure
when that consummation takes place. What I have
to say upon it will therefore be divided into two parts.
First, I will explain to the best of my power the ex-
tremely important purposes, which this propension,
* Love of Justice,' subserves ; and secondly, I will shew
you that it is the very same propension, which, in its
irregular manifestations, has wrought such extensive
misery, under the shape of Anger or Malevolence.
First then for the former of these two subjects.
The Love of Justice is so intimately associated with
our whole life, that it requires the greatest effort of
abstraction, to imagine how strange would be the scene
presented here below without it. Consider the great
majority of mankind. These men follow simply the
impulse of their various propensions, as they are suc-
cessively awakened; like a ship, left, without rudder,
to the movement of each successive gale. They are
simply passive in the matter ; they take no consistent
pains whatever, to follow that one definite course which
Reason prescribes. These men however, as things are,
are led by this propension to sympathize with virtue as
such, and abhor vice. Their idea, indeed, of what con-
stitutes moral virtue, is vague and indefinite enough ; so
deplorably low is the cultivation of their Moral Faculty :
* " Surely, unless we had this account given us by an inspired writer,
we should not have believed it ! Influenced by notions of our own
devising, we should have said, this zealous action of our Lord was quite
inconsistent with His merciful, meek, and (what may be called) His
majestic and serene temper of mind. To put aside form, to dispense with
the ministry of His attendant angels, to act before He had spoken His
displeasure, to use His own hand, to hurry to and fro, to be a servant in
the work of purification, surely this must have arisen from a fire of indig-
nation at witnessing His Father's House insulted, which we sinners cannot
understand." — Newman's Parochial Sermons, vol. iii. p. 198.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 299
still it is something. They admire, even though they do
not practise, generosity, self-devotion, probity, and the
like ; they will do something to reward such qualities;
they will do a great deal to punish their opposites.
What would be the world's aspect, if this propension
were suddenly removed ? The most active imagination
cannot follow this supposition into all its various conse-
quences ; I will take only one instance. We have seen
how completely the great mass of men are ruled by the
Love of Honour. Now suppose Love of Justice were
absent, society would dispense its favour and appro-
bation, without any reference to virtue at all. Popular
applause would be bestowed on men, without any
reference at all to their merit ; simply in proportion to
the degree in which (by whatever low arts and devices)
they should be able to curry favour (as we say) with
their fellows. No degree of heroic devotion to their
country's cause, or self-denying generosity and bene-
volence, would have even a tendency to obtain for men
the admiration of mankind. And consequently, that
enormous mass of men, who are powerfully swayed by
this desire of being greatly admired, would simply
pursue such low arts and devices as are alone available
for their purpose. You see at once — faintly indeed as
compared with the truth, yet very clearly, — the total
wreck which must ensue. This propension then is one
of the very links which hold society together ; take it
away, society collapses.
In the case of good men, nothing like this could of
course ensue ; because they proceed on principle and
reason, not by mere inclination. Yet in their case too,
the evil inflicted by loss of this propension would be
very considerable. As an introductory sample of what
I mean, conceive a meditation on the Passion, in which
Our Blessed Lord's Innocence should have no effect of
its own in intensifying our emotions ! As things are, we
dwell on His spotless Purity; and our indignation is
excited against those cruel and pitiless men, who could
see it unmoved, and continue their unrelenting afflictions.
But suppose the propension before us were eradicated,
300 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
then we simply love these most wicked men as God's
creatures and as Christ's redeemed: this is the whole
account of our feeling in regard to them. You see,
it is as though our moral nature were lopped of an
integral part ; as though it went on three legs instead of
four. Or take another instance. Consider the im-
mense advantage to our spiritual growth, which arises
from viewing our sins, one after another, with loathing
and bitter indignation, as outrages against our Holy
Creator. Such emotions of indignation could not exist,
if this propension were withdrawn from our nature.
Then I ask further — what is it which is the ani-
mating principle of holy men, missionaries, parish-
priests, nay laymen, in their zealous and sustained
endeavours for the perfection of themselves and others ?
Will you say Love ? I reply — Love, in proportion to
its higher excellence, is a plant of far slower growth :
in the earlier stages of our course, it is rather this pious
zeal which is our help and encouragement. What
image does S. Ignatius put before us, when he would
start us on our course with energy and ardour? The
feeling of military ardour : he puts before us ' the two
Standards ; ' and calls on us to fight bravely, under Jesus
as our Captain, against the embodied hosts of His
enemies. Now what is the motive of military ardour?
Partly no doubt, it is the desire of honour and fame ;
and so far it does not fall under our present consider-
ation. But in no less a degree military ardour is made
up of this propension, Love of Justice : each man identi-
fies his own course with that of right, and this inspiring
thought gives animation to every blow. So in the case
before us. What are the feelings called up in our mind,
by that glorious meditation on the Standards ? Partly
no doubt, that we are fighting under the very eyes of
the Heavenly Host, and are receiving our due meed of
praise : but fully as much also, that other feeling, that
we are engaged on the side of Eternal Truth ; and that
every blow we give tells against the forces of evil.
Whether we are assailing evil within or without,—
fighting against a corrupt self or a corrupt world, — in
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 301
either case this it is which gives spirit to our exertions,
that it is evil against which we are privileged to fight.
We see then how vastly our practical work is aided by
this propension.
But if we would really understand the place occupied
by it in our moral nature, let us ask, what would be
the feeling of Christian Charity, if Love of Justice were
away ? in other words, what effect would be produced on
our character by that other propension of General Bene-
volence, Christianly directed, if Love of Justice were not
also present to qualify and direct it ? Our feeling would
be simply that of love to sinners, without any zeal at all
against sin; without any emotion of hatred against
their principles. Our pleasure would be fully as great,
in rescuing the greatest criminal from the justly de-
served punishment of his offences, as in defending the
most saintly Christian from the unjust oppression of an
unfeeling persecutor. Now it is plain, without adding
another word, that to act in accordance with such a
feeling as this, would simply be to turn the whole moral
world upside-down. He who should aim, in his social
dealings, simply at increasing the pleasure and lessening
the pain of his fellow-men; — he who should do this,
I say, without any reference whatever to their com-
parative deserts, without any sustained attempt at pro-
moting virtue and discountenancing vice ; — this man
would act simply as God's open enemy.
It is no exaggeration then at all, but the simple
truth, to say that that very propension, General Love,
which might seem of all the most undeniably and in-
evitably beneficial in its character, would be simply and
grievously injurious to the cause of virtue, unless this
other propension, Love of Justice, were found in its
company. Take either of these most powerful pro-
pensions separately, they lead us to evil. If Love of
Justice had full sway in our social dealings, isolated
from the General Love for mankind, — it would lead us
to every species of harshness, violence, inconsiderateness,
uncharitableness, pride ; it would lead us to feel, as
though we were to be the pitiless judges of our fellow-
302 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
men. On the other hand, if Love for mankind carried
us away, without our being acted on equally by Love of
Justice, — our social career would be that of traitors to
Our Creator and recreants to His cause. Either one
then, taken by itself, would be simply evil in its effects,
and lead us from virtue : but taken in harmony, just as
God has implanted them, they lead us precisely in the
true direction ; they give precisely that one legitimate
and desirable impulse, or rather series of impulses, to
our whole dealings with mankind, which God desires
at our hands.
Such was the picture exhibited, as those tell us who
have studied Church History, by the great ancient
champions of the faith, S. Athanasius, or S. Leo, or
S. Augustine. These great Saints, we are told, com-
bined qualities which might appear on the surface irre-
concileable : they experienced most keenly the emotion
of holy resentment, in regard to heretics considered as
God's enemies ; while they felt the most lively tender-
ness for them one by one, as the creatures of God
and the redeemed of Christ.*
Enough then has been said (though very much
more might be added) to vindicate the first of those
two propositions with which we started ; viz. that this
propension, Love of Justice, is of inappreciable import-
ance as part of our moral nature. The other propo-
sition was, that it is this very propension, and no other,
which, in its perverted state, becomes personal malice
— public faction — in fact enmity and hatred, whether
* " 0 that there was in us this high temper of mingled austerity and
love ! Barely do we conceive of severity by itself, and of kindness by
itself ; but who unites them ? We think we cannot be kind, without
ceasing to be severe. Who is it that walks through the world, wounding
according to the rule of zeal, and scattering balm freely in the fulness of
love ; smiting as a duty, and healing as a privilege ; loving most when he*
seems sternest, and embracing those most tenderly whom in semblance he
treats roughly ? What a stste we are in, when any one who speaks the
plain threats of our Lord and His Apostles against sinners, or ventures to
defend the anathemas of His Church, is thought unfeeling rather than
merciful ; when they who separate from the irreligious world are blamed
as fanciful and extravagant ; and those who confess the truth, as it is
in Jesus, are said to be bitter, hot of head, and intemperate !" — Newman's
Sermotis, vol. iii. pp. 204, 205.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 303
mi n large or a small scale. By far the greater part of
all the misery which man c aggressively ' inflicts on his
fellow-men, is due to nothing else than the perversion
and degeneracy of this one propension. I say the
misery which he ' aggressively' inflicts; and I beg your
particular attention to the sense of this word 'aggres-
sive.' When I speak then of the misery which man
'aggressively* inflicts, I mean the misery which he
inflicts as being misery \ for the sake of inflicting it;
for the pleasure which is thence produced. There is a
fearful mass of evil, /itm-aggressively inflicted by man
on man; inflicted, that is, whether consciously or un-
consciously, in pursuit of some end altogether different.
Thus parents, who give themselves to brutal intem-
perance, inflict on their children indefinite evil ; bad
example, neglect of their education, and many others :
indeed almost all wickedness causes a vast amount of
social mischief. But I am speaking here, of that misery
which is inflicted on others, as being misery ; for the
sake of that wretched gratification, which results from
the infliction of evil as such. Part even of this no
doubt may be put down to the account of Envy, which
is next to be considered; but I maintain that far the
greater part arises from the propension before us. In
other words, the gratification which men derive from
the sufferings of their fellow-men, simply as such, is
far most commonly a gratification (of course a most
detestable and perverted gratification) of this propen-
sion, Love of Justice.
That we may see this more clearly, let us begin by
imagining a particular case. You will grant of course,
that, almost universally, those men who are not really
pious and interior, think far more highly of their own
claims than truth will warrant. The same principle
further applies to their children, their friends, their
country ; for all these objects they entertain a far
higher value than simple reason can justify. Suppose
now I receive some severity of treatment, which is
in accordance with the strictest justice. It is far most
probable that I shall regard it as grossly injurious. Here
304 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
then the propension before us is at once called into
play. Suppose I am one of those, who on the whole
act simply according to their propensions, and not on
principle ; I proceed immediately, in accordance with
this particular propension, to retaliate on the aggressor
for his supposed injury. Now if when we receive just
treatment we consider ourselves aggrieved, what will
be our thoughts on receiving unjust treatment ? The
attacked party then, being unjustly assailed by me,
thinks more seriously of the injury he has now re-
ceived, then / did of my original ground of complaint.
And so here you see at once a very remarkable
scene opening before us ; blow and counter-blow,
action and reaction, increasing without limit in the
way of violence and intensity. But this is only a
small part of the case. My relations and friends see
the whole thing on my side ; his on his side. And
similarly, on a greater scale, when countries contend ;
England, e.g. and France. Englishmen look on it
almost as a matter of plain undeniable common sense,
that England is in the right ; and can't in any way be
got to imagine that the case even admits of another
interpretation. Frenchmen are equally obstinate and
equally one-sided. However extensive then is the
class of phenomena to which we are referring — the
phenomena of mutual hatred and aggressive injury, —
here is plainly a broad principle, which will account for
the whole.
And a proof that this is a true account, — that Anger
(as distinct from Envy) always implies a notion of
injustice done, — may be derived from this fact. Shew
me that the injury which I received was not in any
way intentional; — e.g. that the other party was intend-
ing to do something totally different, and by accident
hurt me ; or that he was out of his right mind at the
time ; or the like : — what ensues ? I may be unwilling
to believe that it was unintentional ; this is very com-
mon : — but let me once believe it to be so, and yet
retain my resentment, I should be looked on by all
mankind as simply beside myself. It is true indeed,
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 305
that I may greatly resent what is caused by mere
carelessness; but this (as Butler well observes) is
because I consider observance as my due, and regard
carelessness towards me as in itselffmlty and injurious.
It is true again, that I may be angry with those who
are not free agents; as children or brutes: but this- (as
any angry man may observe by looking back on his
past consciousness) is because, in the blindness of my
rage, I was under the practical impression that the
object of my wrath was free and responsible. If I can
only be brought carefully to consider and ponder on
the fact that he is irresponsible, my anger begins to
subside as a matter of course.
Look then over the whole expanse (and it is a very
wide one) of human hatred and malice ; — put aside
those comparatively few cases, which are explained
by Envy; — and what do we find? There is not one
single instance, in which hatred and malice are not
connected with a feeling of moral disapprobation : we
regard those whom we hate, as in this or that respect
faulty, and therefore we hate them. We consider them
as faulty, for having injured us; or for having injured
those whom we love; or for sympathizing with those
who have so acted ; or we regard them as in some other
respect wilful: offenders. Man is not capable of any
feeling towards his fellow-man, simply as such, except
that of Benevolence. Hatred, I say, cannot be felt
against our fellow-men simply as such ; but either as
objects of Envy (which is another matter) or else as
in this or that way blameworthy. Take even the ex-
treme case of the misanthrope, and what is its true
analysis ? He regards all mankind as conspiring and
banded together for his injury, and therefore he hates
them.
One of you has objected, that men are sometimes
driven into shocking cruelties, from the motive of
fear ; as in the case of certain slave-owners. But this
objection proceeds on a misconception of my whole
statement. An injury, inflicted from the motive of
fear, is not an 'aggressive' injury; it is not done for the
x
306 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
pleasure of inflicting evil, but for the negative pleasure
of myself escaping such infliction. It is true indeed,
that in such a state of things real hatred and malice
often arise ; but it will be found that this very fact
confirms our theory. In order to justify to myself
those cruelties which I inflict, — in order to persuade
myself that they are due to some higher motive than
mere pusillanimity and terror, — I resolve with blind
obstinacy to believe, that those objects of my dread are
possessed with monstrous and enormous faults. Then,
by dwelling on these imaginary faults, I rise into a
sentiment of indignation against the offenders, and thus
perpetrate my cruelties under the agreeable delusion
that I am but occupied in inflicting a just retribution.
It may perhaps be objected, that malice and hatred
often exist as cool settled dispositions of the will ; quite
apart from \h\sfeeling of anger. This however is only
one particular case of a general phenomenon; of a
phenomenon, which must be explained to you at one
time or another ; and which may as well therefore be
explained now. The propensions may be said to reside
primarily in the sensitive appetite, and secondarily in
the will. Primarily in the sensitive appetite, because
our susceptibility of pleasure appertains exclusively
to the sensitive appetite. Secondarily however in the
will, for the following reason. Suppose, e.g. I have
worked for some time at money-getting, under the
influence of a strong and lively emotion tending in that
direction. These various emotions, as we saw in the
third Section, have all been accompanied by correspond-
ing acts of the will. These various acts of the will
have generated a habit ; and the habit of aiming at
pleasure will enable the will to act, not languidly but
with great steadiness and efficacity, in the same direc-
tion, even when the sensitive excitement is away.
And the same truth holds of this propension also.
'Every feeling of resentment which I have not resisted,
is accompanied by an act of the will ; these various
acts generate a habit of hatred or malice ; and this
habit may enable the will to act with the most de-
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 307
termined and implacable malignity, even apart from
any paroxysms of sensitive excitement.
On the whole then, there can be no doubt, that that
very propension, which would appear on the surface as
tending far more than any other to the disruption and
overthrow of society, — the feeling of mutual animosity
and hatred, — is really on the contrary, if but rightly
directed, one of those necessary links which hold society
together. *
By means of this propension, we can explain a pheno-
menon which we have already admitted to exist (see
n. 121, p. 249) ; viz. that extreme reprobates feel a certain
pleasure in the mere fact of disobeying God. Let us
put the case this way. Suppose I were to hear of some
distinct universe, under the controul of a being who
should be perfectly good, so far as my own inadequate
ideas of goodness extend. There can be no doubt that,
in virtue of this propension, I should sympathize with
his government, rejoice in his success, grieve over his
failure. But now let me become a member of that
universe, and a different kind of feeling ensues. This
being's goodness brings him into collision with myself ;
he forbids me what I wish, and restrains my liberty.
My pride is at once wounded ; a practical sense of in-
justice takes possession of me ; and I feel pleasure in a
certain kind of retribution. I disobey his commands,
as it were to spite him. This is St. Thomas's account,
and I think a true one, of the cause which produces
'odium Dei;' though here, as in other cases, he is con-
sidering habits of the will, where I am speaking of
emotions, t
* " The indignation raised by cruelty and injustice, and the desire of
having it punished, which persons unconcerned would feel, is by no means
malice. No, it is resentment against vice and wickedness : it is one of the
common bonds by which society is held together : a fellow-feeling, which
each individual has in behalf of the whole species, as well as of himself.
And it does not appear that this, generally speaking, is at all too high
amongst mankind.*' — BUTLER On Resentment.
t Respondeo dicendum, qu6d, sicut ex supra dictis patet (1. 2. qusest. 29,
art. 1) odium est quidam motus appetitivse potentise, quae non movetur nisi
ab aliquo apprehenso. Deus autem dupliciter ab homiue apprehendi potest :
uno modo secundum Seipsum,puta cum per Essentiam videtur ; alio modo
per effectus suos, cum scilicet "invisibilia Dei per ea quae facta aunt, intel-
308 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
This propension, as has been so often said, finds its
legitimate gratification in justice being done ; in good-
ness being rewarded, and wickedness punished. It
would appear then, that one-half of its legitimate grati-
fication is found in the misery of our fellow-creatures ;
or rather indeed much more than one-half, since wicked-
ness greatly preponderates over goodness. Here then
arises a most difficult question; — in what cases may the
4 vindictive ' emotions of this propension be legitimately
indulged ? To give this question a fullness of treatment,
commensurate with its difficulty and importance, would
carry us quite too far : moreover it is an ethical, not a
psychological question, and therefore does not in strict-
ness belong to this Chapter. Still some brief remarks
may be desirable.
First, the most legitimate of all gratifications to the
vindictive emotions of this propension, is the punishing
our own sins. Those who undergo severe austerities,
e. g., may make unlimited use of it in animating their
zeal, to inflict still greater punishment on their wicked
lecta conspiciuntur." Deus autem per Essentiam Suam est Ipsa Bonitas,
Quam nullus habere odio potest, quia de ratione boni est ut ametur : et ideo
impossibile est quod aliquis videns Deum per Essentiam, Eum odio habeat.
Sed effectus Ejus aliqui sunt qui nullo modo possunt esse contrarii volun-
tati humanse; quia esse, vivere, et intelligere est appetibile, et amabile omni-
bus ; quee sunt quidam effectus Dei. Unde etiam secundum quod Deus
apprehenditur ut auctor horum effectuum, non potest odio haberi. Sunt
autem quidam effectus Dei qui repugnant inordinatce voluntati; sicut
inflictio prense, et etiam cohibitio peccatorum per Legem Divinara ; quse re-
pugnant voluntati depravatse per peccatum : et quantum ad considerationem
talium effectuum, ab aliquibus Deus odio haberi potest, inquantum scilicet
apprehenditur peccatorum prohibitor et poenarum inflictor. — 2. 2. quaest. 34,
art. 1.
It is not merely by accident, that in so many cases our own enumeration
of the propensions coincides with St. Thomas's of the virtues. The two ideas
in themselves indeed are totally distinct, as is most manifest. By propen-
sion (as we have so often observed) we mean simply man's susceptibility of
pleasure or pain from any particular class of objects. On the other hand,
a virtue is that habit of the will which disposes it to pursue its various
objects in due measure and degree: as we shall see in our theological course.
Still St. Thomas expressly tells us, that for every separate propension he
counts a separate virtue ; and this fact readily accounts for the coincidence
above mentioned.
These are St. Thomas's words : ' Virtutes perficiunt nos ad prosequen-
dum debito modo inclinationes naturales quse pertinent ad jus naturale. Et
ideo ad quamlibet inclinationem naturalem determinatam, ordinatur aliqua
virtus specialist — 2, 2 queest. 108. art. 1, in corp.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 309
and offending selves. All indeed who are at all zealous
for their perfection, adopt some self-chastisement or
other ; whatever it may be, the vindictive emotions of
this propension will assist them greatly in its sustained
use.
Another very legitimate exercise of vindictiveness, is
against evil, whether in the abstract, or as personally
realized in the evil spirits, or again as embodied in
material objects. Holy men may well thus stimulate
themselves against the Devil and his hosts, while actively
and earnestly engaged in converting heretics or reclaim-
ing sinners ; in hewing down idols ; destroying criminal
pictures ; or the like.
Now to take an extremely opposite case. We know
that those in mortal sin are fully deserving of eternal
torment ; yet what more intolerable course could there
be, than the yielding consent to an emotion,* which
finds pleasure in the prospect, that this or that wicked
man will probably be damned ? We need not deter-
mine what may be the case on the Day of General
Judgment ; — how far those who are to be saved may then
laudably exercise this propension, in sympathizing with
God's judgments. This is a separate question alto-
gether : but it is plain that here 4iu via' to rejoice
('gaudere,' see n. 103, p. 218) in my neighbour's pro-
bable damnation, will be the surest means possible of
securing my own.
It may be asked then, is there no legitimate scope
for this propension, in contemplating an open and un-
blushing sinner ? There is more than one such scope :
there are many inflictions, which on the one hand are
chastisements for sin, and yet on the other hand are
most salutary for moral improvement. These we may
most legitimately wish for sinners. Suppose a wicked
worldling has used the power given him by high station,
as a means for oppressing and demoralizing the poor ; —
it is most lawful to admit a vindictive pleasure, when
we hear that he has been hurled down from that high
* What is precisely the yielding consent to an emotion has been ex-
plained in n. 100 and 101, pp. 211, 212.
310 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
station by the course of events. And so where we have
to govern others, — as parents or schoolmasters e. g.
govern children, — we may most suitably make use of
this feeling, to help us in our bounden duty of inflict-
ing such punishments, as we judge really conducive to
the moral improvement of those committed to our
charge. To go beyond this towards others, would
plainly be to adopt towards them a most different
measure, from that which we apply to ourselves. In
our own case, we may take a vindictive pleasure in
looking e. g. on the discipline, as a well-deserved inflic-
tion on our sins ; but we can never say, ' Oh, that Hell
had been my lot, as I richly deserved ! ' We wish to
ourselves those inflictions only, which are corrective as
well as punitive ; to others also we should wish the
same.
Here then we also see, how great a degree of resent-
ment may innocently be allowed, in the case of an injury
inflicted on ourselves. An injury done to ourselves, is
as truly deserving of punishment as one done to others.
We cannot then be said to exceed, so far as we allow
ourselves in no more than that degree of resentment,
which we should experience, if another, wholly uncon-
nected with us, were the party injured. Nay we may go
perhaps a little further ; for where we are ourselves the
sufferers, we are the more able to understand, intellec-
tually to appreciate, the extent of the injury, and so the
wrongfulness of the act. Yet on the other hand, in
proportion as we move towards perfection, we shall
feel much less keenly an injury done to ourselves; be-
cause our practical impression will the more be, that
we deserve nothing better. However, as a help towards
aiming at perfection, it will be well to discipline our-
selves from the first in the habit, of never consenting
to an emotion of resentment, for any injury which we
may ourselves suffer. It is by such means, that we
shall the more quickly grow to the desired degree of
self -hatred and self-contempt.
Finally, as we become holier and better, we shall
more and more cease to dwell on injuries, as being
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 311
inflicted against our fellow-creatures, any more than as
against ourselves. We shall be more and more absorbed
in the thought of God ; and feel in regard to all evil-
doing, as towards an injury done to God.
It will be interesting, in illustration of all that has
been said, if you are disposed to read St. Thomas's
treatment of the virtue 4 vindicatio' 2, 2, q. 108 : though
it would carry us much too far, to examine precisely
how his statements stand in regard to ours.
145. A very ingenious objection has been made by
one of you, against the whole theory which I have
drawn out on the origin of malice and cruelty. In
order the more fully to meet that objection, I will here
consider another propension, of a totally different cha-
racter from Love of Justice, and which otherwise would
have been treated in a later part of the Section. The
propension to which I allude, may be called, for want
of a better name, c Love of the Marvellous ;' for I speak
of that delight which is experienced, from coming in
contact with something, which is most broadly and
strikingly contrasted with our every-day experience.
As an instance of what I mean, consider the rap-
turous enjoyment of a child, when he first sees a play
or some other gorgeous and magnificent spectacle : for
weeks afterwards he can think of nothing else. It is
this propension, which leads feebler minds to that con-
stant longing for novelty and change, which is so very
common ; and deeper minds are influenced by it, to
foreign travel and the search after rare and unusual
objects.
It is equally plain, that there is nothing in this
visible scene which can afford such a propension any
stable or sufficient gratification. Its full and legitimate
Objects, can be nothing less than those great and awful
Truths, which concern God and the Invisible World.
Apart from Revelation, the contemplation of what
Reason has to tell concerning our Infinite Creator, will
afford it a far more adequate enjoyment than can any
earthly scene ; but the marvels revealed by the Gospel
are such, as to give it the keenest and most exquisite
312 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
delight. He who lives by faith, is able to feed his soul
on the most transporting mysteries, even while going
faithfully and punctually through the most ordinary
business of every -day life. A God Incarnate ! A
God dying to redeem us ! A God dwelling within the
Holy Tabernacle, and patiently awaiting our prayers !
What amount of meditation can ever exhaust such
marvels? Nay, and this heavenly - minded Christian
looks forward also from time to time, with beating
heart and throbbing expectation, to that future period,
when he shall awake as it were from the darkness and
slumbers of earth, to full light and wakefulness ; to the
actual vision of those wonders, which ueye hath not
seen, nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart
of man to conceive."
146. I now approach the objection to which I just
now referred. Hatred and Malice, I had said, are but
perversions of that vitally important propension, the
Love of Justice. Whenever we inflict suffering on our
fellow-men, for the sake of that pleasure which we
derive from such suffering, — there is always (putting
aside the case of Envy) a practical impression (how-
ever monstrous) of injury received and retaliation
justly inflicted. There is no such thing as hatred of
our fellow-men as such. ' You forget,' replies the ob-
jector, 4 a whole class of facts. Take such a series of
4 atrocious cruelties, as those perpetrated, e.g. by the
4 worst Roman Emperors, or by the miscreants of the
4 first French Revolution. How could Robespierre
4 imagine that he had received injury at the hand of
1 those helpless multitudes, whom he ruthlessly slaugh-
4 tered?' Let us take then Robespierre and his asso-
ciates as our instance; for whatever may be said in
their case, is most easily applicable to any other of
similar appearance.
Now (1) such a man as Robespierre undoubtedly
would consider his opponents to be in some sense morally
culpable ; for in his fanatical blindness he regarded the
enemies of republicanism as the enemies of the human
race. Add to this, that a wicked man (as already ex-
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 313
plained) receives the monstrous practical impression,
that those who oppose himself deserve whatever ven-
geance he can inflict. I doubt not therefore, that his
cruelties did in some degree proceed from this propen-
sion, Love of Justice, in that frightfully perverted state
to which his wickedness had reduced it.
But (2) his fear was added, as an extremely strong
motive : to a great extent his cruelty proceeded, not
from any pleasure he received in the suffering of his
victims, but from his anxiety to protect himself. To
pause in his frenzied course for one day is, as he
fancies, to give his prostrate enemies time to recover
themselves, and to conspire against him. He feels how
justly he has deserved their hatred ; and is ever dread-
ing its explosion. This is one of the curses attendant
on social guilt, that in some sense past evil deeds neces-
sitate future. What does Macbeth feel after Duncan's
murder ?
* I am in blood
Stepped in so far, that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er.'
And so a craven and panic fear possesses him, of the
terrible retribution which he must expect, the moment he
intermits, even for the shortest period, his bloody career.
Still I think we shall by no means do justice to the
phenomena of the case, unless we introduce into our
analysis the propension treated in the previous number;
the delight which accrues, from that which is broadly
and strikingly contrasted with our every-day experience.
In virtue of this propension, the constant practice of
cruelty generates a kind of nervous excitement, which
more and more possesses the whole mind. Just as they
say that a tiger, having once tasted blood, cannot again
forbear;- -so to these men, after this career of wild ex-
citement, ordinary existence appears vapid, insipid, com-
monplace, to an intolerable degree.
Take these three facts : ( 1 ) these men's fanatical
idea that they are inflicting on their opponents a just
retribution ; (2) the panic fear caused by their most
critical position; and (3) the strange attractiveness of
314 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
that nervous excitement which is kept up by the pro-
longation of these shocking cruelties; — all will admit,
I think, that such cases as those before us are fully
accounted for, without at all supposing any hatred of
mankind as such.
147. Next to consider Envy: and I begin with these
preliminary remarks. What is more wholesome, more
admirable, more bracing to the spiritual strength, than
such an exercise as this ; — to ponder on the lives of holy
men, and strive to lessen the distance between them
and us, by advancing in all virtues and by imitating
their holy example ? God has given us a special plea-
sure, in the performance of this holy exercise ; or in
other words has implanted in us the propension Emula-
tion.
But we may seek to gratify this propension, — in
other words we may strive or desire to lessen the dis-
tance between others and ourselves, — by trying or
desiring, not to raise ourselves, but to depress them.
Emulation then and Envy are in fact the very same
propension : rightly gratified, it is Emulation ; wrongly
gratified, Envy. Nothing can be clearer or more
simple. *
* ' Respondeo dicendum, quod, sicut dictum est (art. prsec.) invidia est
tristitia quaedam de alienis bonis. Sed hsec tristitia potest cotingere quatuor
modis.
1 Uno quidem modo, cum aliquis dolet de bono alicujus, inquantum ex
eo timetur nocumentum, vel sibi ipsi, vel etiam aliis bouis ; et tails tristitia
non est invidia, ut dictum est (art. praec.), et potest esse sine peccato. Unde
Gregorius 22. Moral, (cap. 6. ante med.) ait : " evenire plerumque solet ut non
amissa caritate, et inimici nos ruina laetificet, et rursum ejus gloria sine in-
vidiae culpa contristet ; cum et ruente eo quosdam bene erigi credimus, et
proficiente illo plerosque injuste opprimi formidamus. "
' Alio modo potest aliquis tristari de bono alterius, non ex eo quod ipse
habet bonum, sed ex eo quod nobis deest bonum illud quod ipse habet ; et
hoc proprie est zelus, ut Philosophus dicit in 11. Rhetor, (cap. 11. circ.
princ.) ; et si iste zelus sit circa bona honesta, laudabilis esi, secundum illud
1 Corinth. 14. 1, "^Emulamini spiritualia." Si autem sit de bonis tempo-
ralibus, potest esse cum peccato, et sine peccato.
' Tertio modo aliquis tristatur de bono alterius, inquantum ille cui accidit
bonum, est eo indignus : quae quidem tristitia non potest oriri ex bonis ho-
nestis, ex quibus aliquis Justus efficitur, sed sicut Philosophus dicit in
11, Rhet. (cap 14.), est de divitiis, et de talibus quae possunt pro venire
dignis et iudignis : et haec tristitia secundum ipsum vocatur nemesis, et
pertinet ad bonos mores. Sed hoc ided dicit, quia considerabat ipsa dona
temporalia secundimi se, prout possunt magna videri non respicientibus ad
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 315
There are various corruptions of this propension.
(1) Where the sphere of action (if I may so express
myself) is changed. This takes place, when we emulate
others in worldly, not in spiritual advantages ; when we
try to outstrip others in the race of ambition ; or vie
with those richer than ourselves, as to ostentation, com-
mand of equipages, and the like ; or indulge in any
other kind of worldly emulation. (2) Not only the
sphere of action may be changed, but the propension
itself perverted into envy. Needy men may rejoice, in
the calamities of those who were richer than themselves;
or a politician, in the total downfall of one who was his
opponent.
It may seem at first strange, but it is most un-
doubtedly true, that very far the worst pervers'ion of
this propeusion, occurs where the sphere of action is not
changed. Envy of our neighbour's spiritual excellence;
the desire that it might be less, because it overshadows
and shames our own; — where can there be a more
odious feeling than this ? *
The will's deliberate consent to such an emotion, is
numbered by Catholic writers as among the most
heinous of sins.
148. We have now therefore seen, that those pro-
pensions which are far the most powerful of all (with
one exception) in drawing souls from God — Love of
Approbation, of Power, of Knowledge, of Acquisition —
may do most important work in directing them towards
His service. We have seen further, that those very
seterna. Sed secundum doctrinam fidei, temporalia bona qua? indignis pro-
veniunt, ex justa Dei ordinatione disponuntur, vel ad eorum correctionem,
vel ad eorum damnationem ; et hujusmodi bona quasi nihil sunt in compa-
ratione ad bona futura, quae servantur bonis. Et ideb hujusmodi tristitia
prohibetur in Scriptura Sacra, secuudum illud Psal. 36. 1, " Noli semulari
in malignantibus, neque zelaveris facientes iniquitatem :" et alibi Psal. 72. 3,
* Peene effusi sunt gressus mei, quia zelavi super iniquos, paceni peccatorum
videns."
1 Quarto modo aliquis tristatur de bonis alicujus, in quantum alter exce-
dit ipsum in bonis ; et hoc proprieest invidia ; et istud semper estpravum,
ut etiam Philosophus dicit in 11. Rhetor, (cap. 10), quia dolet de eo de quo
est gaudendum, scilicet de bono proximi' — St. Thomas, 2. 2,qua3st. 36, art. 2.
* I mean of course odious in its results, when the will consents to it.'
No emotion in itself can strictly be called odious, because it is not in our
own choice whether we experience it or not.
316 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
propensions, Anger and Envy, which might seem most
undeniably and exclusively evil in their tendencies,
may be put to most excellent account. Nay the former
of them, as we have seen, is so vitally important to our
moral nature, that if it did not exist, the very propen-
sion of General Benevolence would be mischievous in
its effects on our conduct. All this reasoning gives the
greatest antecedent probability, to the thesis we are
maintaining; insomuch that even if we were not able
as yet to see its full truth in the case of any particular
propension, there would be the greatest probability that
more careful observation would place this propension
on the same footing with so many others.
I prefix these remarks to my treatment of Pride,
which is the next case to be considered. I am not
doing this indeed, because there is any difficulty at all
in ascertaining, what is that propension, and what its
legitimate application, of which Pride is the perversion ;
for the case is otherwise. Still it must be^admitted, I
think, that the evil effects of this propension when per-
verted, exceed and overweigh its good effects when
rightly directed, very far more than in the case of any
other propension. And though I think I shall be able
to give a perfectly satisfactory reason for this fact, still
it seemed better to preface my treatment of this most
important propension with the above remark. I should
add indeed, that there is another propension, of which
some may think that the evil effects of its perversion
exceed the good effects of its legitimate application in
even a greater degree; I mean the propension which
tempts us against the Sixth Commandment. But so far
as this statement is true, it stands upon totally different
grounds ; as will be explained in its due place.
That propension, of which Pride is the perversion,
is the l Love of Self-assertion ; ' the propension which
finds its gratification, in contemplating our own personal
importance, and acting with a view to its vindication
and promotion. In order to explain the place of this
propension in our moral constitution, I proceed as
follows : —
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 317
(1.) The personal importance of us men is incalcul-
ably great. If we consider only what unaided reason
can tell us, we have grounds for this statement. Each
one of us possesses true liberty ; in other words, each one
possesses what might have seemed the inalienable pre-
rogative of God, (and which on this very ground is denied
to man by many sectaries,) in being (as it is expressed)
a self-originating principle of causation. This statement
will be explained and illustrated, in our theological work
on Liberty; but its general meaning is (I trust) suffi-
ciently clear to you. Each one of us then is entrusted with
the charge of that most precious deposit, — his own
moral character, his own permanent and eternal interest.
It rests simply with himself, whether he shall grow
towards the Holiness of God, or in the precisely oppo-
site direction ; it rests precisely with himself, whether
he shall be for ever happy or for ever miserable.
But let us introduce into our picture the truths of
Revelation, and this statement becomes far more em-
phatically true. For each one of us God died ; it rests
then with each one to determine, whether in his regard
that death shall have been efficacious, or shall have
been frustrated of its desired results. To each one,
supernatural grace is imparted, abundantly sufficient for
raising him to the Facial Vision of God; he has the
unspeakable privilege therefore, the awful responsibility,
of either co-operating with God or directly resisting Him.
Those in a justified state moreover possess, seated in their
soul, certain inward permanent gifts, the very thought of
which is most elevating and transporting.
(2.) It is of extreme importance that we dwell upon,
that we realize, this our great personal importance.
You remember, when we were speaking of vain-glory,
the weak-minded youth at school ; of whom we said,
that he shrinks from giving expression or effect to his
most certain religious convictions, from fear of his com-
panions' sneers. What was immediately wanting to
him? precisely this ; — a realization of his own personal
importance. In every instance where men are drawn
from their true End, whether by vain-glory or by any
318 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
other earthly shadow, a true sense of their own per-
sonal importance would infallibly save them. And so
the great writers of the Church have ever felt. S. Leo
for instance, as quoted in the Breviary, ' agnosce Chris-
tiane dignitatem tuam;' c ponder on the great dignity to
which you have been called, and refuse for very shame
so to act as to degrade it.' One instance however, from
a contemporary writer, will be more to our immediate
purpose, than the multiplication of such quotations as
this ; and I will give therefore a most interesting quo-
tation from Father Newman.
Every Christian student of Aristotle is struck with
his description of ^gyaXo-^/y^/a : that very quality, which
he paints as the highest and noblest of virtues, appears
to ordinary readers most closely allied to that most
detestable sin of Pride, which flows from this very pro-
pension we are considering. Various critics, defending
Aristotle, deny indeed this statement ; and with the
philosophical or personal controversy thence ensuing
we have no kind of concern. Father Newman however,
in one of his later Protestant sermons, has based on
this Aristotelic description, a complete sketch of the
Christian character. From this sketch two inferences
at once follow; and they are the very two propositions
which I am occupied in maintaining. First it follows,
that this habit of self-assertion is most important to the
Christian life ; and secondly it follows, that this is the
very principle, of which Pride is the perversion. I will
quote in the note one long passage from this most
striking composition, and shall be very glad if I thereby
induce you to study the whole.*
* "He then, who believes that, in St. Paul's words, he is 'joined to the Lord'
as ' one spirit,' must necessarily prize his own blessed condition, and look
down upon all things, even the greatest things here below. * Ye are of God,
little children,' says the beloved disciple, ' and have overcome them ;
because greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world. They are
of the world ; .... we are of God. He that knoweth God, heareth us ; he
that is not of God, heareth not us.' — 1 John, iv. 6. Here is the language of
saints ; and hence it is that St. Paul, as feeling the majesty of that new
nature which is imparted to us, addresses himself in a form of indignation
to those who forget it. ' What ! ' he says, ' what ! know ye not that your
body is a temple of the Holy Ghost ? ' As if he said, ' Can you be so mean-
spirited and base-minded, as to dishonour yourselves in the devil's service ?
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 319
(3.) Seeing then that this habit of Self-assertion is
thus vitally important, our ultimate conclusion at once
results. That there is a certain, not inconsiderable,
pleasure, derivable from dwelling on our personal im-
portance, the phenomena of pride themselves most amply
prove. Such pleasure therefore is capable, in proportion
to its intensity, of giving us valuable assistance in our
Christian course.
You will ask perhaps, is this a different pleasure
from that which appertains to the propension of Self-
charity? A little consideration will shew that it is
Should we not pity the man of birth, or station, or character, who degraded
himself in the eyes of the world, who forfeited his honour, broke his word,
or played the coward ? And shall not we, from mere sense of propriety, be
ashamed to defile our spiritual purity, the royal blood of the second A dam,
with deeds of darkness ? Let us leave it to the hosts of evil spirits, to the
haters of Christ, to eat the dust of the earth all the days of their life.
Cursed are they above all cattle, and above every beast of the field ; grovel-
ling shall they go, till they come to their end and perish. But for Christians,
it is theirs to walk in the light> as children of the light, and lift up their
hearts, as looking out for Him who went away, that He might return.'
" For the same reason, Christians are called upon to think little of the
ordinary objects which men pursue, wealth, luxury, distinction, popularity,
and power. It was this negligence about the world, which brought upon
them in primitive times the reproach of being indolent. Their heathen
enemies spoke truly ; indolent and indifferent they were about temporal
matters. If the goods of this world came in their way, they were not bound
to decline them ; nor would they forbid others in the religious use of them ;
but they thought them vanities, the toys of children, which serious men let
drop. Nay, St. Paul betrays the same feeling as regards our temporal call-
ings and states generally. After discoursing about them, suddenly he
breaks off as if impatient of the multitude of words ; * But this I say,
brethren,' he exclaims, ' the time is short.'
" Hence, too, the troubles of life gradually affect the Christian less and
less, as his mew of his own real blessedness, under the Dispensation of the
Spirit, grows upon him ; and even though persecuted, to take an extreme
case, he knows well that, through God's inward presence, he is greater than
those who for the time have power over him, as Martyrs and Confessors
have often shewn.
" And in like manner, he will be calm and collected under all circum-
stances ; he will make light of injuries, and forget them from mere con-
tempt of them. He will be undaunted, as fearing God more than man ; he
will be firm in faith and consistent, as ' seeing Him that is invisible ; ' not
impatient, who has no self-will ; not soon disappointed, who has no hopes ;
not anxious, who has no fears ; nor dazzled, who has no ambition ; nor
bribed, who has no desires.
" And now, further, let it be observed on the other hand, that all this
greatness of mind which I have been describing, which in other religious
systems degenerates into pride, is in the Gospel compatible, nay rather
intimately connected, with the deepest humility."— Sermons on Subjects of
the Day, pp. 163-166.
320 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
altogether different. Suppose I believed myself de-
stitute* of all freedom ; of all real power either to
promote or obstruct my own well-being; well — the
propension Self-charity would, by such a supposition,
lose no part of its adequate object. It would still be a
matter of joy to me, if I believed happiness is in store
for me on the whole; and of grief, if I believed that
misery would preponderate in my lot. On such a
supposition I say, the propension of Self-charity would
lose no part at all of its adequate object; whereas the
propension before us would in that case have no legiti-
mate object whatever left. This fact alone, shews how
absolutely and entirely distinct is the legitimate object
of one of these propensions from that of the other.
But again, that personal responsibility, which is my
only true personal importance, and consequently the
only legitimate foundation for this propension's gratifi-
cation— this responsibility (I say) reaches (as we have
seen) not only to the promotion of my own permanent
happiness, but still more prominently and importantly
of my own moral perfection. But as to this latter, it is
evident on the surface how utterly it is beyond the
scope of Self-charity.
Thus far, on the legitimate application of this pro-
pension. But we now come to a matter far more
important, and deserving far more careful consider-
ation; I mean the process of its perversion. The legi-
timate object then of this propension, is our personal
importance, in the sense of our vast personal responsi-
bility; of our great spiritual gifts and endowments.
Everything which Reason or Revelation tells us, as
to the preciousness of that deposit committed to our
charge, — our own sanctity, our own eternal destiny,
— every such intelligence gives a fuller scope for such
legitimate application. The propension is perverted, in
proportion as it seeks some gratification different from
this. So far therefore as I dwell with complacency on
my (real or supposed) moral excellence, I am making a
perverted use of this propension. And very far more,
so far as I dwell with complacency on things which
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 321
make no pretension to be morally excellent; — my in-
tellectual powers, or my ancient lineage, or my acquired
wealth. Moral pride (see n. 68, p. 140) is very bad ;
but pride which is not ' moral' (as I hope to shew in
our theological work) is far more detestable.
Now so long and so far as my will is abjectly sub-
missive to the will of God, in that proportion pride is im-
possible. It will be a very interesting task hereafter, to
prove this statement ; — to shew clearly the power pos-
sessed by moral virtue, of necessarily expelling pride :
here let us take for granted, what you are all of course
quite willing to admit. On the other hand, so far as at
any moment the energy of our will towards good abates,
an entrance is opened to pride. This being assumed,
I here further maintain, that so soon as an opening is
made for pride, pride will infallibly make use of that
opening, and obtain entrance ; and I beg your most
particular attention to the reason which I give for this
statement.
The Propension, which we are now considering, differs
from every other most signally, in this one particular ;
the extraordinary ease with which it obtains gratifica-
tion. Let us contrast it in this respect, for instance,
with another, which in many respects resembles it, Love
of Approbation. It is a very difficult thing to obtain
the approbation of others; but it is the easiest thing in
the whole world to obtain our own : to dwell in thought
on this or that (real or imaginary) excellence. Now
the mass of men, so far as they do not aim at c bonum
honestum,' are perfect slaves to present and imme-
diate ' bonum delectabile ;' they clutch, unreflectingly
and instinctively, at every gratification which comes
within their reach. But here is a gratification, which
is within their reach at every moment of their exist-
ence; how certainly therefore it ensues, that they will
eagerly seize it ! And thus it comes to pass, that this
one pleasure mixes itself unconsciously with the whole
current of their daily life, and works at every instant
more deeply into their soul. All these innumerable
emotions of pride are accompanied as a matter of course
Y •
322 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
(n. 100, p. 211) with innumerable acts of will, precisely
parallel ; and these acts of will, from their very number,
constitute in such men a habit, more intense and more
deeply rooted, than any other evil habit which can be
named.
Even a pious and interior man, who sincerely aims
at perfection, at every step of his upward progress is
startled and horrified, at the great abysses of pride
which he discovers in his own heart. All those acts of
will, which have generated this habit, have passed from
his remembrance, or more probably were never distinct
objects of reflection ; they have been elicited, sponta-
neously and as a matter of course, at those moments,
when the will was either altogether idle, or at all events
less energetic, in a virtuous direction.
We are now able to explain the remarkable fact
above stated, that the good effects of this Propension
when rightly directed, bear so comparatively small a
proportion, to its evil effects when perverted. In order
to understand the reason of this, observe first, that all
which has been said on the extreme ease of gratify-
ing this propension, applies to it only in its perverted
exercise. This is quite manifest : the thought of our
personal importance, in the sense of our great personal
responsibility, is not a pleasing but a most painful
thought, except to those who are really labouring for
their own sanctification. That thought, which is at
once so gratifying and so easily elicited, is the thought
of some (real or supposed) excellence ; and to take plea-
sure in this thought, with full consent of the will, is
that very perversion which we call pride.
In order the better to fix our ideas, let us choose
some other Propension, with which to contrast this in
the particular above stated. No more suitable one can
be chosen for this purpose, than that which we have
already contrasted with it in another aspect ; Love of
Approbation.
I say then firstly, that the Love of Approbation is an
incomparable keener and more powerful propension,
than the Love of Self-assertion. This is plain, whether
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUK NATURE TO VIRTUE. 323
we compare the two in their legitimate or their per-
verted exercise. How immeasurably more lively and
transporting is the delight which we receive, from
believing that our dearest Redeemer approves our con-
duct, than that which ensues from our conviction that
we are really promoting our own true importance ! On
the other hand, consider the incredibly and almost
fabulously inspiring effect, produced e.g.ou soldiers, who
possess the full spirit of their profession, by the pros-
pect of receiving praise and gratitude from their coun-
trymen at home. Such is vain-glory ; and if we view
pride in comparison with it, how languid and (as it
were) sullen a pleasure it is which the latter confers.
Why then is it that pride is ordinarily so far more
powerful and deeply rooted a habit? Evidently, be-
cause the Propension far more than makes up, by the
frequency of its gratifications, for their comparatively
small intensity. Those acts, which engender the habit
of pride, are in the mass of men almost or altogether
unceasing;* those which make up the habit of vain-
glory, are comparatively rare and intermittent. Acts of
virtuous Self-assertion are by no means more frequent,
than acts wherein we aim at, or rejoice in, God's appro-
bation ; and the latter Propension, being immensely
the stronger, gives far greater help to virtue than
the former. But acts of pride are immeasurably more
frequent than acts of vain- glory ; so much so, as to do
much more than compensate, for the immensely less
pleasure which appertains to the former propension.
One final remark may be interesting, before we quit
this Propension. It has been assumed, in our treatment
of it, that so long as the will is kept in due subordina-
tion to God, the entrance for any long time of that
emotion which we call pride is impossible. Now
further I ask, what did we find, in treating of Resent-
ment, to be the one principal source, from whence pro-
ceed hatred, malice and all 'aggressive' injury to our
fellow-men ? A small amount, it appeared, was due to
* That is, of course, during their waking hours.
324 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
the action of envy ; but far the greater part, to per-
verted Love of Justice. Lastly I ask, how does this love
of Justice become perverted ? how is it transformed
into personal anger and unholy resentment ? Simply
through pride ; through our monstrous practical exag-
feration of our own just claims to respect and deference,
o long then, it appears, as the will is duly subordinate
to God, pride even as an emotion can for no long time
remain ; and so far as pride is absent, personal anger,
and hatred, and malice, will be non-existent. In other
words, it is only in proportion as they fail in due rever-
ence to their Creator, that creatures ever experience
any continued emotions of mutual hatred and vindictive
malice against each other.
149. The Propensions, which we have hitherto con-
sidered, all agree with each other in this respect ; viz.
that every growth in virtue does but give increased
scope for their gratification. It is requisite indeed, that
we take great pains in fixing them carefully on their
legitimate objects. It is requisite also, that a certain
definite proportion should be preserved, between various
Propensions of the number, as to the degree in which
we respectively cherish and foster them. To labour at
these two tasks indeed, is the principal and most impor-
tant office of mortification ; as we shall see in our theo-
logical course. But so only that they are fixed on
their legitimate objects, and fixed in the right relative
proportion, it is absolutely impossible that we can
exceed in our degree of calling them into exercise.
These, and whatever others there may be which agree
with them in this particular, I call by the name of the
higher Propensions. Let us recapitulate those which
we have mentioned, in that order in which they occurred.
I. Love of Duty.
II. Self-charity.
III. Personal Love, (1) Amor Benevolentiae and (2)
ConcupiscentiaB.
IV. General Love, (1) Amor Benevolentia3 and (2)
Concupiscentise.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 325
V. Compassion.
VI. Gratitude.
VII. Love of Approbation.
VIII. Love of Power.
IX. Love of Acquisition.
X. Love of Knowledge.
XL Love of Justice.
XII. Love of the Marvellous.
XIII. Emulation.
XIV. Love of Self-assertion.
150. Let us still linger on these Propensions, before
passing on to the rest ; not for the sake of any addi-
tional argument for our thesis which we may thence
derive, but rather for the sake of imprinting them
more deeply on our memory, and becoming more con-
versant with their character.
And first let us enquire, are there any of these
Propensions, which receive gratification from every
virtuous act which we perform ? Evidently the first
does so : it is not (as we have stated in treating of it) a
powerful propension on its positive side ; still a certain
pleasure is derived, from the consciousness of acting
rightly, on every occasion when we know ourselves so
to act.
Is there any other Propension, which is of necessity
thus universally gratified by virtuous conduct ? You
will say perhaps that Self-charity is so, not to mention
others ; because every good act really tends to our
own happiness. True; but we are not, in every good
act, thinking of our own happiness : as we shall see in
the next chapter. The first Propension then is the
only one, to which we can assign this universality of
gratification in the practice of virtue.
Next, that we may see more clearly what benefits
are derived from these Propensions in our Christian
course, let us take the ordinary division of duties.
Let us divide our duties then, into those which are ( 1 )
towards God; (2) towards ourselves ; and (3) towards
our brethren. And among our various Propensions,
326 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
let us consider which are those calculated to give us
special help, in fulfilling the first, the second, the third,
of these three classes.
First, duties towards God. It is a very trite remark,
that all our duties may in a very true sense be called
duties to God. Those which are called in particular
by that name, are on the whole reducible to this ; — the
fixing our thoughts at due times, and commonly with
particular effort and abstraction, on the thought of God,
in all His various aspects. And this is important for two
reasons. First, that we may preserve through the day
our implicit memory of His presence ; or in other words,
that our various successive acts may be really, even if
unconsciously, directed to His love and service (see n.
120, p. 247). Secondly, that by such habits of familiar
conversation with our Creator, we may be the more
certainly and effectually transformed into His likeness.
The same duty is also incumbent on us, in regard to
other Objects of the invisible world ; — the Sacred
Humanity, our heavenly Mother, Saints, and Angels.
It will perhaps then be more conducive to complete-
ness, if we call these duties, duties towards God and the
Invisible World.
The chief Propension which will give us energy for
this task, and joy in fulfilling it, is (I need not say)
' Personal Love,' in its two great branches ; but hardly
less important service will also be rendered by c Love of
Approbation.' ' Love of the Marvellous' also enjoys
signal delight in these high contemplations. * Gratitude '
and 'Compassion' give (as we have seen) subordinate
assistance ; and it is perhaps not an undue refinement
to say, that even such theological considerations, as are
in place during direct prayer and meditation, give a real
gratification (with educated Christians) to their ' Love
of Knowledge.' ' Emulation' also stirs us up towards
following those high examples, whom we study at such
periods.
The second class of duties — those towards our-
selves— are no whit less indispensable than the former.
Under this head are included such exercises, as perio-
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 327
dical examen of conscience ; — the labouring to discover
remedies, for those hitherto hidden sins which we may
have discovered ; — the practice of penance and satis-
faction, by way of self-revenge ; — the watching over
ourselves through the day, that we practise faithfully,
in all these respects, what we may have resolved
wisely. These exercises, I say, are no less important,
than those of the former class ; or rather are absolutely
indispensable, in order that the others may be really
performed at all. Unless there be this constant interior
watchfulness and discipline, our contemplation of
Heavenly Objects will be delusive; will not truly
correspond to the great Realities. It is for this very
reason, that so many misbelievers have fallen into such
terrible abysses of evil, under pretext and imagination
of heavenly contemplation. It is for this reason, that
so many have mistaken the dictates of pride and bit-
terness, for true zeal in God's behalf; and the untem-
pered heats of fanaticism, for the fervours of genuine
devotion.
What then are those Propensions which will specially
cheer us, in the fulfilment of these laborious and other-
wise wearisome obligations ? So far of course as the
motive for their performance has reference to God,
those Propensions last recited have their place also here.
But we are rather inquiring, what Propensions will be
specially called into play, by that special part of God's
service, which consists of these interior duties. We
may answer as follows.
(1.) ' Self-charity' will be of most powerful assistance
in the cause : the very fact that we are thinking of our
own interior, will remind us how essentially we are
promoting our own happiness by so acting. (2.) 4 Love
of Self-assertion' in like manner will be gratified, in
proportion as we faithfully acquit ourselves of that
responsibility which rests upon us ; and still more,
4 Love of Acquisition,' when we find our evil habits
sensibly diminish, while our various virtues are healthily
advancing towards maturity. In regard to one side of
these duties — the discovery of hidden sins, and self-
328 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
chastisement in vindictive requital, — we have seen how
very powerfully the c Love of Justice' will both stimulate
us to the task, and sustain us in its performance.
There remains the third class of duties, those
towards our brethren. These indeed are not so abso-
lutely essential to the very idea of true religion, as are
the two former ; yet in those circumstances wherein God
has placed us, it will ever remain true, that c he who loves
God will love his brother also.' What are those Pro-
pensions which will give us special help in this branch
of obligation ? On these duties indeed, as in regard to
the former, it is to be noted, that so far as the motive
for their performance has reference to God, the Pro-
pensions bearing on the first class have their place here
also. But the meaning of our question is, what Pro-
pensions will specially be called into play, as often as
our working for God takes the special shape, of aiming
at the conscientious discharge of our social duties.
The first place will be held, in partnership, by those
two most important Propensions, — l General Love' (in
its two branches) and c Love of Justice.' So far as either
of these unduly preponderates over the other, social
mischief tends to ensue : it is the resultant of their
united action, which will speed us forward in the due
direction. In proportion as we possess these two Propen-
sions, (1) in the right mutual proportion, and (2) in
strength and intensity, in that proportion we shall be well
equipped by nature for our social duties. Both c Com-
passion' and ' Gratitude' are also of great assistance to
these duties ; but far more the former than the latter.
4 Love of Approbation ' also should be enlisted in the
same cause : for though, when directed to our fellow-
men, there is need of great watchfulness, lest it exceed
and become inordinate; — yet (as we before observed)
it may have a perfectly legitimate gratification, in the
applause we receive from good and pious Christians.
Finally it may be remembered, that in one very important
part of our social duties, — intercessory prayer, — the
' Love of Power' is an invaluable stimulus to its due
performance.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 329
151. Another course of remarks on these Propen-
sions will be desirable, in consequence of a deep and
vital difference which exists on this head, between
Catholics and Protestants. In speaking of Protestants,
I refer to those who may be called \formal Protest-
ants.' There are certain Protestants, be they more or
fewer in number, whose interior life is such, that were
the Catholic Church to be truly exhibited before their
eyes, in her doctrines, her precepts, her rule of life,
they would speedily recognize her Divine authority:
their Protestantism is due to their ignorance of Catho-
licism in its real nature. But there are other Protest-
ants, of whom a most different account must be given ;
and whom a clearer apprehension of Catholic doctrine
and practice, would but drive into a more determined
and uncompromising opposition.* And it is such Pro-
testants as these, of whom I intend speaking. They
would regard this whole treatment of our Propensions
as simply illusory, and even fanatical. And as you
will probably come often enough into contact with such
opponents, it is better you should at once understand
their view of the case.
I cannot better explain their general meaning, than
by a single very characteristic illustration : their
opinion on monasteries and convents. You will con-
stantly hear them urge, that convents are such dreary
places ; and that the unhappy victims, there immured,
must pine away in desolation and misery. You will
reply of course, that a convent would indeed be a dreary
place for one who had no vocation ; or, in other words,
who was so constituted (by nature or habit) as to have
no sufficient power of realizing the invisible. But as
to one who has such a vocation, you will add, no place
can be so happy as a convent ; for God, and the other
objects of the Invisible World, are a far more adequate
rest whereon the affections may repose, than any beings
* It may be asked, whether this distinction be equivalent to that between
'vincible' and 'invincible' ignorance; but no intelligible answer could be
given in a few words. ' De Ignorantia' will be one important part of our
the "
teological work.
330 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
of this earth can possibly be. Now the reception,
which such a reply will meet from Protestants, is deeply
instructive. It is not merely that they will not admit
its force : they will be angry with you, for having the
' effrontery ' to urge it ; they will look on it as a mere
juggle of words ; they will regard it as a mere super-
ficial plausibility, invented for the purpose of contro-
versy, the truth of which you yourself no more believe
at the bottom of your heart than they do.
Now how can we account for this their strange de-
meanour? They cannot possibly mean, e.g. that our
Propensions are incapable of being gratified by invisible
objects. Take, for instance, a fact to which we have
often adverted; the incredible delight which a soldier
receives, from the praise of his countrymen. Does this
delight spring only from the praise of those, among his
countrymen, whom he has seen and known ? The sup-
position is simply ridiculous. He is in the Crimea, and
they at home; those with whom he is personally ac-
quainted are but an infinitesimal part of the whole ; yet
the praise of that unknown mass is the sweetest music
in his ears. How can it then be called unmeaning or
paradoxical to maintain, that he whose thought dwells,
not on his unseen countrymen but his unseen Creator, —
that such a man will derive a similar gratification from
that Creator's praise and approbation ? or rather indeed
a much greater gratification ; by how much the Creator
has him with immeasurably greater constancy in His
thoughts,* and knows with immeasurably greater in-
timacy his whole course of life. This is however but
one Propension out of many : consider others also ;
consider, e.g. Compassion. If I hear a most touching
tale of woe, who will say that I have no pleasure in
relieving it, because I never saw the sufferer? Or,
taking Gratitude as an instance, that I have no pleasure
in requiting a service, unless I personally know my
benefactor? Or consider General Love. Is not the
hatred of my fellow-men one of the keenest sufferings
imaginable? And who will say that it is lessened,
* I express myself, of course, ' more humano.'
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 331
because the great majority of those men are external
to my acquaintance ?
Our opponents then cannot possibly mean, that
man's Propensions are incapable of being gratified by
invisible objects : we must seek some deeper ground of
difference, between them and ourselves. Nor is it very
difficult to discover this ground. I was once arguing
this very point of doctrine, with a very candid and in-
telligent Protestant ; and the answer which I received
shed quite a flood of light on the real matter at issue.
4 Seclusion from the world,' said my antagonist, 4 must
4 by absolute necessity be a wretched and dreary con-
* dition, whatever you say about such persons realizing
4 the Presence of God. How is it possible to find con-
' tent and comfort, in the thought of an abstraction?1
This, I am persuaded, leads us to the real truth ; they
do not practically believe in a Personal God at all.
Now on this supposition, nothing can be more in-
telligible than the above statement. A heathen phi-
losopher calls on his hearers to live justly, temperately,
beneficently, — not for the sake of human applause, but
for the pure love of virtue. 4 Virtue/ he adds, * is its
6 own reward, and will support us in the absence of all
4 human consolations/ This is very specious and
plausible, so long as his disciples are content with
admiring and listening to his fine sentiments; but let
them once try and put them into practice, the fallacy of
his reasoning will force itself on their notice. ' What
4 is meant at last by virtue? simply a certain state of
4 my own mind : how can a state of my own mind be
4 any gratification, to those most powerful Propensions,
4 which rest on external objects for their satisfaction?
4 How can my Love of Approbation, or my desire for
4 another's affection, be satisfied by a mere abstraction ?
4 Such talk is mere insult or mockery.7 These will be
the very natural and just comments of a heathen au-
ditor ; and in proportion as any men (whatever they
are called) agree with heathens, in (practically at least)
ignoring the very notion of a Living and Personal
Creator, — in that proportion the very same reclamation
332 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
will be natural and (in one sense) reasonable in their
mouths also. To speak of God as a really satisfying
Object to the heart, is to give them a stone when they
ask for bread; it is to call on them to rest their affec-
tions on a mere abstraction. This then I believe to be
the real ground of difference, between Catholics and
these Protestants ; this it is, which perplexes both the
Catholic and the Protestant controversialist. Each
arguer is amazed and bewildered, when he finds his
opponent doubting or denying, what to him appear the
most obvious and elementary of truths. And each is
tempted consequently, to charge the other with con-
scious and flagrant disingenuousness ; whereas the
real truth simply is, that they mutually differ as to
principles, far more fundamental and pervasive, than
any which have been directly subjects of disputation.
Protestants, I say, in proportion as they are 4 for-
mally ' such, do not practically realize the existence of
a Living and Personal Creator, wholly distinct from,
and external to, ourselves ; of a Being, who has Acts,
Thoughts, Affections, of His own; of a Being, who may
be just as truly and legitimately the Object of our
various propensions, as any other external being can
be ; of a Being, ' Who, though the highest, yet in the
4 work of creation, conservation, government, retribu-
4 tion, makes himself, as it were, the minister and ser-
4 vant of all ; Who, though inhabiting eternity, allows
' Himself to take an interest, and to feel a sympathy,
4 in the matters of space and time.' * They consider
themselves of course, — sincerely consider themselves,—
to believe most firmly in His existence ; but all their
views and opinions on religious matters imply, by ne-
cessary inference, the contradiction of that belief. To
suppose that the real difference between Catholic and
Protestant, lies in opposite intellectual convictions on
the existence of Purgatory, or on the cultus of Our
Blessed Lady, or on the efficacy of sacraments, seems
to me a most inadequate view indeed of the real gulf
between them and us. We start from, and throughout
* Newman's Discourses on University Education, p. 93.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 333
proceed upon, an essentially different view from them,
on the very foundation of all religion; — on the nature,
the character, the claims, of our Almighty Creator. On
this the very foundation of all religion, the doctrine
of God, — the Protestant's practical belief is one thing,
the Catholic's another and most opposite. ' No one/
says Father Newman, 4 can really set himself to master
' and to teach the doctrine of an Intelligent Creator in
4 its fulness, without going on a great deal farther than
4 he at present dreams/ * c Let him really and truly,
4 not in words only, or by inherited profession, or in
4 the conclusions of reason, but by direct apprehension,
* be a Monotheist, and he is already three-fourths of the
4 way towards Catholicism.'' f I am not speaking of
* Newman's Discourses on University Education, p. 100.
t I am not saying that this will tend to remove those various obstacles,
which prevent his regarding the historical arguments in favour of Catholic
Doctrine as satisfactory ; that is another matter. But I say, it will tend
most powerfully to remove the innumerable objections to Catholic Doctrine
in itself, which are felt by the mass of Protestants.
On the general statement in the text, as to Theism being the main point
at issue between Catholics and Protestants, I may say that I had come to
the clear conviction of its truth, before I was aware how far any other
Catholics were in agreement. The following quotation therefore expresses a
judgment, of which my own was altogether independent. ' This is the
doctrine which belief in a God implies : if it means anything, it means all
this, and cannot keep from meaning all this, and a great deal more ; and,
though there were nothing in Protestantism, as such, to disparage dogmatic
truth (and I have shewn there is a great deal), still, even then, I should have
difficulty in believing that a doctrine so mysterious, so peremptory, approved
itself as a matter of course to educated men of this day, who gave their
minds attentively to consider it. Rather, in a state of society such as ours,
in which authority, prescription, tradition, habit, -moral instinct, and the
influences of grace go for nothing ; in which patience of thought, and depth
and consistency of view, are scorned as subtle and scholastic ; in which free
discussion and fallible judgment are prized as the birthright of each indivi-
dual ; I must be excused, if I exercise towards this age, as regards its belief
in this doctrine, some portion of that scepticism, which it exercises itself
towards every received but unscrutinized assertion whatever. I cannot take
it for granted, I must have it brought home to me by tangible evidence, that
the spirit of the age means by the Supreme Being what Catholics mean.
Nay, it would be a relief to my mind to gain some ground of assurance, that
the parties influenced by that spirit had, I will not say, a true apprehension
of God, but even so much as the idea of what a true apprehension is.
' Nothing is easier than to use the word and mean nothing by it. The
heathens used to say, "God wills," when they meant "Fate ;" "God pro-
vides," when they meant " Chance ; " " God acts," when they meant
" Instinct " or " Sense " ; and " God is everywhere," when they meant " the
Soul of Nature." The Almighty is something infinitely different from a
principle, or a centre of action, or a quality, or a generalization of pheno-
334 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
course, as though a sharp and definite line could be
drawn, — between those who are 'formally' Protestants
and those who are but accidentally so, — on this spirit
(as it may be called) of practical atheism. Here, as
in all other cases of the same kind, one doctrine melts
into the other through numberless intermediate grada-
tions. There is the class of Protestants (be they many
or few) who are not c formally ' Protestants at all ; who
realize God's Personal Existence, as firmly as ordinary
Catholics realize it ; and who are truly on their way to
Catholicism, if it were but adequately exhibited before
their sight. There is on the other hand that nume-
rous body of extreme Protestants, whose practical doc-
trine has been described above. Lastly, there is a
large number of intermediate persons, who are in a
greater or a less degree of agreement with the former
or with the latter.
This also must be observed. I am not here en-
gaged in vindicating the deep harmony which exists,
between the most undoubted facts of our nature on the
one hand, and the monastic institute on the other hand ;
though I hope indeed, that the proposition which we
are here defending, will be found a most important pre-
miss for that further conclusion. To vindicate that
harmony, is to shew that certain souls possess such
keen power of apprehending the Invisible, that God
and other heavenly Objects suffice of themselves to
satisfy their highest Propensions. This is not our pre-
sent thesis. In the earlier part of our remarks on the
Propensions, we maintained, that to all those who choose
to feed their thoughts on the great Truths of Faith, the
constitution of their nature gives two singular ad-
vantages. First, God is an Object which is suited to
mena. If, then, by the Word you do but mean a being who has contrived
the world and keeps it in order ; who acts in it, but only in the way of
general Providence ; who acts towards us, but only through what are called
laws of Nature ; who is more certain not to act at all, than to act indepen-
dently of those laws ; who is known and approached indeed, but only through
the medium of those laws ; such a God it is not difficult for any one to con-
ceive, not difficult for any one to endure.' — Newman's Discourses on Uni-
versity Education, p. 594.
Father Faber, in various parts of his work on ' The Creator and the
Creature,' most powerfully enforces the same great truth.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 335
the satisfaction of their highest Propensions, in pre-
cisely the same sense in which any earthly object can
furnish such satisfaction; and secondly, the thought
of Him gives a far deeper, more solid, more permanent
gratification to these Propensions, than any earthly
object has to offer. To this whole course of reason-
ing various Protestants reply, that the very allegation
of God being a real rest to the affections is simply
sophistical ; is founded on a mere equivocation. Our
digression then has been occupied, in dealing with that
Protestant reply.
Let us now then consider, what are those various
arguments, which may be adduced in this controversy.
How far indeed arguments are likely in ordinary cases
to be of avail , — against a principle, so widely and deeply
pervading the Protestant mind, so unsuspiciously im-
bibed and taken for granted as self-evident, — this we
are not here to consider: it would require a separate
treatise of itself. But such arguments as the following,
are in themselves surely very cogent and irrefragable ;
however little our opponents may choose to give them
a candid and dispassionate consideration.
(1.) One answer to our opponents is contained in
all the preceding discussion. Their whole statement
implies the denial of a Personal God: once admit a
Personal Creator, external to ourselves, it is simply
ludicrous, to assume as self-evident, that the thought of
Him may not be found a most real and keen gratifica-
tion to our highest propensions. Strange however as
it must appear, they do assume this position as self-
evident ; and thus imply a denial of God's Personal
Existence. Yet so far are they from professing any
such denial, they are most indignant at being even
suspected of it. Since therefore their reasoning un-
doubtedly implies a certain proposition; — and since
they indignantly deny that they hold any such pro-
position ; — their whole intellectual position is simply
self- contradictory.
(2.) A second answer to them may be given, even
more direct -and fundamental than the former. They
336 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
say, that the thought of God cannot thus satisfy the
human affections ; we Catholics know, as a matter of
certain fact, that in numberless cases it has and does so
satisfy them. There is no fact on earth more certain,
than that great numbers of monks and nuns have, in
every age, been able, with joy and delight, to renounce
all human and earthly attachments altogether, and
satisfy every longing of their souls by communion with
the Invisible World.
" What are the humble monk, and the holy nun, and other
regulars, as they are called," asks Father Newman, " but Christians
after the very patterns given us in Scripture? What have they
done but this, — continue in the world the Christianity of the
Bible ? Did our Saviour come on earth suddenly, as He will
one day visit, in whom would He see the features of the Chris-
tians He and His Apostles left behind them, but in them ? Who
but these give up home and friends, wealth and ease, good name
and liberty of will, for the kingdom of heaven ? Where shall we
find the image of St. Paul, or St. Peter, or St. John, or of Mary
the mother of Mark, or of Philip's daughters, but in those who,
whether they remain in seclusion, or are sent over the earth, have
calm faces, and sweet plaintive voices, and spare frames, and
gentle manners, and hearts weaned from the world, and wills
subdued ; and for their meekness meet with insult, and for their
purity with slander, and for their gravity with suspicion, and for
their courage with cruelty; yet meet with Christ everywhere, —
Christ their all-sufficient, everlasting portion, to make up to them,
both here and hereafter, all they suffer, all they dare, for His
Name's sake?"*
And as so many monks and nuns have ever found
God 4 their all-sufficient portion,5 so many ordinary Ca-
tholics also have ever felt towards Him a real personal
affection. In the following passage, Father Newman
expresses, what had been to me a most striking fact of
observation, from the time when I became acquainted
with Catholic books of devotion ; and of course there-
fore, long before I read the passage in question. He
expresses this fact, I need hardly add, with incom-
parably greater clearness and force than I could hope
to reach ; and his words therefore will be far more
suitable than any of my own.
* Sermons on Subjects of the Day, p. 328.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 337
" And what the Church urges on us down to this day, Saints
and holy men, down to this day, have exemplified. Is it neces-
sary to refer to the lives of the Holy Virgins, who were and are
His very spouses, wedded to Him by a mystical marriage, and in
many instances visited here by the earnests of that ineffable
celestial benediction, which is in heaven their everlasting portion ?
The martyrs, the confessors of the Church, bishops, evangelists,
doctors, preachers, monks, hermits, ascetical teachers, — have they
not, one and all, as their histories shew, lived on the very name
of Jesus, as food, as medicine, as fragrance, as light, as life from
the dead? — as one of them says, cin aure dulce canticum; in ore
mel mirificum ; in corde nectar coelicum.'
" Nor is it necessary to be a Saint thus to feel : this intimate,
immediate dependence on Emmanuel, God with us, has been in
all ages the characteristic, almost the definition, of a Christian.
It is the ordinary feeling of Catholic populations : it is the ele-
mentary feeling of every one who has but a common hope of
heaven. I recollect, years ago, hearing an acquaintance, not a
Catholic, speak of a work of devotion, written as Catholics
usually write, with wonder and perplexity ; because (he said) the
author wrote as if he had ( a sort of personal attachment to our
Lord; it was as if he had seen Him, known Him, lived with
Him, instead of merely professing and believing the great doc-
trine of the Atonement/ It is this same phenomenon, which
strikes those who are not Catholics, when they enter our Churches.
They themselves are accustomed to do religious acts simply as a
duty ; they are serious at prayer-time, and behave with decency,
because it is a duty. But you know, my brethren, mere duty, a
sense of propriety and good behaviour, these are not the ruling
principles present in the minds of our worshippers. Wherefore,
on the contrary, those spontaneous postures of devotion? why
those unstudied gestures? why those abstracted countenances?
why that heedlessness of the presence of others ? why that absence
of the shamefacedness which is so sovereign among professors of
other creeds ? The spectator sees the effect ; he cannot under-
stand the cause of it. Why is this simple earnestness of worship ?
we have no difficulty in answering. It is because the Incarnate
Saviour is present in the tabernacle ; and then, when suddenly
the hitherto silent church is, as it were, illuminated with the full
piercing burst of voices from the whole congregation, it is because
He now has gone up upon His throne over the altar, there to be
adored. It is the visible sign of the Son of Man which thrills through
the congregation, and makes them overflow with jubilation." *
Here again, I am not considering how we can best
* Occasional Sermons, pp. 47-49.
338 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
convince Protestants of this fact, which is so familiarly
known to us Catholics ; that is another matter : I am
but saying, that this fact is in itself a most absolute
answer to their argument. When we speak of personal
affection for God, — personal in the very same sense in
which our affection for each other is personal, — they
reply, not that such affection is undesirable, but that it
is impossible. If you allege that a thing is impossible,
in no other way can you be so irrefragably answered,
as by my shewing you that it exists.
(3.) The next argument may be drawn, from the
New Testament Scriptures ; which Protestants or-
dinarily hold to be inspired by God.* How very
much, on the surface at least, these inspired writings
appear to favour our side of the question, is plain from
the comments made on them by infidel writers. It has
been urged again and again by the opponents of Chris-
tianity, that the New Testament overlooks such virtues
as friendship and patriotism, in its earnest inculcation
(1) of personal love for God and (2) of general love for all
mankind. This has been urged, I say, again and again :
many Protestant controversialists have considered the
objection; but I never heard of one who attempted to
deny, that at least far greater stress is laid in the New
Testament on love for God, than on any love for our
earthly friends.
In attempting any citation of individual passages,
the real difficulty is, lest, in contemplating individual
passages, we omit to consider the general spirit. No
one, I am quite certain, can read the New Testament
with any approach to fairness, and fail to see, how
simply it takes for granted throughout the very pro-
position for which we are contending; the proposition,
that God is a real Object for our affections, in the very
same sense in which we are objects of each other's
affections. The following passages then must be taken
merely as samples of an indefinite number.
Thus, that God's love to us is no mere figurative
* Iii this and various other parts of the present book, for convenience'
sake, the limits of strict philosophy have been exceeded.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 339
expression, but is entirely analogous to an earthly
father's love of his children, is stated expressly in
Luke, xi. 11-13. * If our earthly father,' argues our
Blessed Saviour, * will give to his children good gifts
and not bad, how much more will our Heavenly Father
so act ! ' The argument, from our earthly father's love
to God's Love, implies of necessity what I just stated ;
otherwise it is simply unmeaning. So, in the Parable
of the Prodigal Son, God is represented under the
figure of an earthly father, who, on his son's return, is
moved with compassion, and falls on his neck, and
kisses him. (Luke, xv. 20.) In another place, His joy
over the return of a repentant sinner is imaged by the
shepherd's delight in recovering his lost sheep.* Then
consider John, xvi. 26, 27, ' Non dico vobis quia Ego
rogabo Patrem de vobis : Ipse enim Pater amat vos,
quia vos Me amastis.' Here we see first, that God
loves them, in that very sense in which they love our
Blessed Saviour. But no one ever doubted (as I shall
presently urge at greater length) that those disciples,
who actually lived with our Lord in the flesh, loved
Him in the same sense in which they loved each other.
It is in this sense therefore that God loves them. And
we see, secondly, in this passage, that our Blessed Lord
takes for granted, that the same results follow from
God's Love, which would follow from that of an earthly
friend ; and that He will therefore readily hear their
prayers. The love of God for man therefore, if the
New Testament can be trusted, is altogether analogous
to the love of an earthly father for his children.
Next, that our Blessed Saviour, in His human
nature, loves His disciples with a human affection
(though this, at all events, no one can have ever
doubted), is plainly stated in innumerable instances;
of which the few following may be taken as samples.
* Matt, xviii. 12-14. "Quid vobis videtur? si fuerint alicui centum
eves, et erraverit una ex eis, nonne relinquit nonaginta novem in monti-
bus, et vadit quserere earn quse erravit '? Et si contigerit ut inveniat
earn, amen dico vobis, quia gaudet super earn magis quam super nona-
ginta novem quse non erraverunt. Sic nan est voluntas atite Patrem
vestrum Qid in ccdis est, ut percat unus de pusillis istis."
340 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
u Et extendens inanum in discipulos suos, dixit: Ecce
mater Mea et fratres Mel. Quicumque enim fecerit
voluntatem Patris Mei Qui in coelis est, ipse Meus
frater, et soror, et mater est" (Matt. xii. 49, 50.)
" Quam cum vidisset Dominus, misericordid motus super
earn, dixit illi: Noli flere." (Luke, vii. 13.) " Majorem
liac dilectionem nemo liabet, ut animam suam ponat
quis pro amicis suis." (John, xv. 13.) "Ante diem
festum paschse, sciens Jesus quia venit hora ejus ut
transeat ex hoc niundo ad Patrem, cum dilexisset
Suos qui erant in niundo, in finem dilexit eos." (John,
xiii. 1.)
And now for the chief point of all ; viz. that Christ-
ians are to love their God and their Saviour, in the
very sense in which they love each other; in the same
sense, but of course in a higher degree, and with more
unreserved adherence of affection.
Thus, " Qui aniat patrem aut matrem plusquam
Me, non est Me dignus ; et qui amat filium aut filiam
super Me, non est Me dignus." (Matt. x. 37.) Here
is the very comparison, between love of Christ on the
one hand, and love of father, mother, son, daughter,
on the other hand. Unless the word 'love' is used in
the same sense as applied to the contrasted objects, our
Lord's sacred words become a simple absurdity; paral-
lel to that which is involved in the question, c which of
the two is longer, an hour or a mile?' You cannot
compare the length of an hour with that of a mile,
because the word * length ' is used in two totally dif-
ferent senses; and no less utterly absurd would it be
to compare love of Christ with love of father and
mother, if the word 'love' were used in two different
senses.
Again, consider the well-known summary of the
Law. " Ait illi Jesus : Diliges Dominum Deum tuum
ex toto corde tuo, et in tota anima tua, et in tota
mente. tua. Hoc est maximum et primum mandatum.
Secundum autem simile est huic : Diliges proximum
tuum, sicut teipsum. In his duobus mandatis uni-
versa Lex pendet et prophetse." (Matt. xxii. 37-40.)
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 341
Here the same word is used for love of God and love
of our neighbour.
Still more to our general purpose is the following.
" Et coepit ei Petrus dicere : Ecce nos dimisimus omnia,
et secuti sumus Te. Respondens Jesus, ait : Amen dico
vobis : Nemo est, qui reliquerit domum, aut fratres, aut
sorores, aut patrem, aut matreni, aut filios, aut agros,
propter Me et propter Evangelium — qui non accipiat
centies tantum, nunc in tempore hoc, domos, et fratres,
et sorores, et matres, et Jilios, et agros, cum persecu-
tionibus, et in sseculo futuro vitam aeternam." (Mark,
x. 28-30.) No one maintains, that all who give up
earthly goods and relations for God's sake, literally
receive them back again; that he, for instance, who,
for God's sake, leaves father and mother, obtains lite-
rally two new human objects for his filial affections.
What then can be meant, except that very proposition
for which we have been arguing? viz. that those very
affections, which we tear, for God's sake, from their
immediate earthly gratifications, receive satisfaction ' a
hundred times' greater, in those higher Objects which
our faith will bring within our reach.
Then what can St. Paul mean in such passages as
the following, except that his love for Christ was
similar to our love for a human object? similar, though
of course immeasurably higher and more pervasive.
" Mihi vivere Christus est, et mori lucrum." (Philip, i.
21.) " Desiderium habens dissolvi etesse cum Christo"
(Ibid. i. 23.) " Quis ergo nos separabit a charitate
Christi ? tribulatio ? an angustia ? an fames ? an nu-
ditas ? an periculum ? an persecutio ? an gladius ? . . .
Sed in his omnibus superamus propter Eum Qui di-
lexit nos. Certus sum enim, quia neque rnors, neque
vita, neque angeli, neque principatus, neque virtutes,
neque instantia, neque futura, neque fortitude, neque
altitudo, neque profundum, neque creatura alia, poterit
nos separare a charitate Dei, quse est in Christo Jesu
Domino nostro." (Rom. viii. 35, 37-39.) And St.
Peter, " Si tanien gustdstis quoniam dulcis est Dominus."
(I Pet. ii. 3.)
342 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
St. Peter's own Supremacy indeed had been based
on his exceeding the other Apostles in love of Jesus.
" Cum ergo prandissent, dicit Simoni Petro Jesus :
Simon Joannis, diligis Me plus his? Dicit ei: Etiarn,
Domine, Tu scis quia amo Te. Dicit ei : Pasce agnos
Meos. Dicit ei iteruin: Simon Joannis, diligis me?
Ait illi: Etiam, Domine, tu scis quia amo Te. Dicit
ei : Pasce agnos meos. Dicit ei tertio : Simon Joannis,
amas me? Contristatus est Petrus, quia dixit ei tertio,
Arnas me? et dixit ei: Don due, Tu omnia n6sti: Tu
scis quia amo Te. Dixit ei : Pasce oves rneas." (John,
xxi. 15-17.) And St. Paul dwells on that very con-
nection between love of Christ and love of each other,
on which his Master laid such repeated stress. " Et
ambulate in dilectione, sicut et Christus dilexit nos,
et tradidit semetipsum pro nobis oblationem et hostiam
Deo in odorem suavitatis." (Eph. v. 2.)
Again, earthly love, in proportion as it is more
deeply rooted in the whole feelings and affections,
does not content itself with emotion, but issues in a
careful compliance with every wish of the beloved per-
son. In this respect also love of God and of Christ is
to resemble it ; for it is to shew itself in punctual per-
formance of the Divine Commandments. " Qui habet
mandata Mea, et servat ea, ille est qui diligit Me.
Qui autem diligit Me, diligetur a Patre Meo : et Ego
diligam eum, et manifestabo ei Meipsum Ee-
spondit Jesus et dixit ei : Si quis diligit Me, sermonem
Meum servabit, et Pater meus diliget eum, et ad eum
veniemus, et mansionem apud eum faciemus. Qui non
diligit Me, sermones Meos non servat. Et sermonem
quern audistis, non est Meus: sed Ejus qui misit Me,
Patris." (John, xiv. 21, 23, 24.) " Sicut dilexit Me
Pater, et ego dilexi vos. Manete in dilectione Med.
Si prcecepta mea servaveritis, manebitis in dilectione
Med, sicut et ego Patris mei praecepta servavi, et
inaneo in Ejus dilectione." (John, xv. 9, 10.)
(4.) So much on the inferences deducible, from the
plain statements of Scripture. We may derive a further
argument from the fact itself of the Incarnation ; an
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 343
argument which will be cogent, not indeed against all
our opponents, but at least against those Protestants,
who consider themselves to believe that great and most
august Mystery.
No one, I suppose, who believes in any sense the
New Testament facts, ever doubted that St. John, e. g.
" who lay on Jesus's breast " had a real personal love
for Him ; or St. Peter, who wept bitterly when He
turned to look on him ; or St. Mary Magdalen, when
she was unable to apprehend any other thought, except
the one pervasive and absorbing impression, " They have
taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have
laid Him." Now no one will dream of maintaining,
that Personal Love, once formed, is lost, merely because
its object departs from this visible scene; and it follows
therefore, that all those pious men, who mixed familiarly
with our Lord during His earthly ministry, retained for
Him a life-long Personal Love. But those who believe
the Incarnation, hold necessarily that Personal Love for
Jesus, is Personal Love for the Incarnate God ; in their
judgment therefore, all these favoured disciples had a
life-long Personal Love for the Incarnate God.
Now I ask, can there be an hypothesis more abso-
lutely incredible, than that this was purely an exceptional
case ? that those indeed who lived with our Lord in the
flesh retained for Him a Personal Love, but that no
other Christians could ever have the power of sharing
their blessedness ? that the humblest of the seventy
could enjoy this high privilege, but that St. Paul had
not even the physical possibility of arriving at it ? yet
this must be maintained by those who say, that a real
Personal Love for Him is now impossible.
Further, there is a fact, perhaps the most remark-
able fact in all the world, which throws a flood of light
on this whole matter. There are preserved to us
authentic records of our Blessed Saviour's life. We are
able, by a truly amazing disposition of God's Provi-
dence, to study one by one the very acts and words of
Almighty God ; to trace Him through each various
event of His earthly ministry ; and to share, with those
344 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
who were actually present, its salutary effect. Surely
it is most incredible that so marvellous a Providence
shall have been put forth, except for some most im-
portant end. We know of course that the end, for
which God the Son became Incarnate and died, was
the salvation of us men ; but I am now inquiring into
the end of this further fact, that His words and deeds
in the flesh have been so extensively recorded, and are
authenticated by inspiration itself. And I say that this
fact is eminently suited for the vitally important purpose,
of engendering in us that personal knowledge of our
dearest Lord, on which personal affection can be reared.
See then whither we are led. It is most incredible
that Personal Love for our Lord should be the peculiar
privilege of one solitary Christian generation ; and
this inspired record of His life is eminently suited to
give every successive generation of believers the fullest
means of attaining that Love. On the other hand, it is
most incredible that this inspired record can have been
put forth, except for some most important purpose ;
and yet no other purpose can be even suggested, except
the very one which we are considering. Here then is
a two-fold ground for our conclusion, that it is our
great duty and blessedness so to meditate on His life
and actions, as to rise into His love.
And now we are able to answer an objection, which
Protestants might have made with some superficial
plausibility, to our original reasoning. ' True,' they
might have said, c many of our Propensions may be
' abundantly satisfied by invisible objects : our Love of
' Approbation may be so satisfied ; or our Compassion ;
4 or our General Love of mankind. But Personal Love is
' essentially different ; Personal Love requires personal
' knowledge.'
To this our reply is now obvious. First indeed I will
observe, that this reasoning only professes to meet one
out of \hefour arguments adduced for our proposition.
But secondly, even in regard to that one, the reply is
inefficacious. No doubt, in human friendships, personal
knowledge supplies the firmest and surest basis for
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 345
tenderness of personal affection : yet even in them it is
far from indispensable. That I may take instances
which Protestants will admit, consider such a personal
knowledge as we obtain e. g. of Johnson from BoswelFs
life, or of Dr. Arnold from Mr. Stanley's. What
student is there of these biographies, who is not con-
scious of personal regard, and that indeed in no incon-
siderable degree, towards the remarkable men there
commemorated ? But supposing we had reason to know
that Johnson and Arnold appreciate us as we appreciate
them ; — that they know our various thoughts, and sym-
pathize in our various troubles; — what then would be
wanting to a very complete personal friendship ? The
application is apparent. And I may refer in this connec-
tion to the comparison drawn out at length in n. 135,
(p. 268-271) between Personal Love to our blessed Sa-
viour and Personal Love to any human object whatever.
You will object, that at least, in order to cultivate
such Personal Love, we must give great and constant
effort to the task of realizing the invisible world.
4 Since we cannot actually see, and hold palpable con-
* verse with, our Blessed Lord, it will be the more
6 requisite to supply the deficiency, by specially fixing
4 our thoughts on His various works and actions ; the
4 study of which brings home to our feelings and
4 imagination His personal character/ The whole
practice of the Catholic Church is in full accordance
with this statement. Meditation is recognized, as a
most important integral part of the Christian life ; and
the great majority of meditation-books occupy far the
freater part of the year, in a study of the various
[ysteries relating to our Lord. The truth alleged is
indeed most undoubted. Let any one consider the
terrible hold which the world has on our affections, ( 1 )
from the very fact that it is so importunately visible,
and (2) from the tendency of our corrupt nature
towards all those things which are antagonistic to
God, — and what will be his certain inference? this,
that unless we direct special and sustained efforts to
this very purpose, — the purpose of realizing the invisible,
346 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
of making ourselves practically and influentially con-
versant with the things of faith, — the things of sight,
this dazzling and delusive world, will infallibly draw
us into its vortex.
Of all our higher Propensions, this of Personal Love
is the only one, in regard to which any objection, ever
so superficially plausible, could be alleged against our
statement, that they may find their highest and most
adequate gratification in the great Objects of faith.
Any such objection has now (I trust) been entirely
overthrown ; but what is most remarkable is, that it is
precisely this very Propeusioii of Personal Love, in
regard to which Scripture speaks with such singular
frequency and emphasis.
It may be said, that there is one class of Protestants
at least, to whom we cannot with any truth ascribe
such opinions as those which we have been combating ;
the c Evangelicals/ c These religionists,' it will be urged,
4 preach, as their very characteristic doctrine, the abso-
6 lute necessity of personal trust in our Saviour.'
Now I will most willingly make the same distinction
in their case, as in that of other Protestants : among
them, perhaps even more than among others, there are
various men, who are not ' formally ' Protestants ; whose
interior life is such, that if Catholicism were really and
purely presented to their notice, they would be at once
efficaciously moved by grace to embrace it. I am
most eager to think, that among those who have in
various times professed 'Evangelical' opinions, there
are very many, who have had a most real love for their
Redeemer. But speaking of * Evangelicals ' as a class,
it is most remarkable, notwithstanding all their pro-
fessions, how little they display of Personal Love for
our Lord. Their favourite scriptural study, e. g. is
not the Gospel narrative, which speaks throughout
simply of our Lord; but rather the Epistles, which
speak of faith and love towards Him, far more pro-
minently than of Himself. And so, generally, it is not
when our Lord is mentioned, but when faith is men-
tioned, that your true ' Evangelical ' feels his interest
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUE NATURE TO VIRTUE. 347
awakened, his affections inflamed, his attention keen
and eager. If I am a Catholic, my love for my Saviour
leads me to follow Him e. g. step by step, through all
the various stages of His bitter Passion ; and accom-
pany each step by its appropriate affections. Catholic
books of devotion on this plan are simply innumerable ;
what single one is there of the kind, which has issued
from the ' Evangelical ' quarter ? Protestants of a
1 high church ' complexion have occasionally thus
written ; witness e. g. Jeremy Taylor : but what
4 Evangelical ' has so done ?
149. The same doctrine which we have been treat-
ing in the last two numbers, may be put forth in a
slightly different shape as follows.
All spiritual writers are of course unanimous in
telling us, that our one way to perfection is the mor-
tifying our evil and corrupt affections. In proportion
as we do so, they tell us, heavenly and spiritual affec-
tions grow up within us ; we become changed beings ;
our joys and sorrows, our hopes and fears, all are essen-
tially different from what they were ; we live in a new
world ; no phrase in fact can so well express the change
wrought within us, as St. Paul's significant and em-
phatic statement, that we become ' a new creation.' No
doctrine of course can be more true, or more funda-
mental, than this. And yet not unfrequently it is
understood, in a sense totally different from that which
these writers ever imagined, and directly at variance
with the most certain psychological facts. Such lan-
guage is not unfrequently understood, as though there
were certain evil passions in our nature, which it is our
simple business to extirpate ; and as though, in proportion
as we do so, certain totally different affections, hitherto
dormant, were sure to start into existence, and become
the animating principle of our lives.
There cannot, I say, be a more extravagant suppo-
sition than this ; nor indeed could any one entertain it,
who in any sufficient way mastered the meaning of his
words. Our natural constitution is simply good ; it
contains no one evil passion. There can be un-
348 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
doubtedly no more essential discipline, than that of mor-
tification ; but the work of mortification is wholly mis-
understood, wherever such a theory is held as that just
stated. Our lower propensions no doubt, — those which
we are presently to consider, — are to be more and more
stinted of gratification. But the main office of mortifi-
cation, is not to stint or check the exercise of our Pro-
pensions, but the very contrary ; it is to tear them
away from objects utterly unworthy of them, that they
may be the more undividedly fixed on Those, which
alone can give them any deep or permanent satisfaction.
I am not professing to prove this statement ; for I con-
sider that the whole of the present section has been one
continued proof of it. I am but shewing you, under a
different point of view, what that conclusion is, at which
we have been aiming throughout.
An objection however may be started against this
whole doctrine, which at first blush has a somewhat
plausible appearance. ' Is it not the commonest remark
4 in the world,' you may ask, cthat to the Saint everything
' which is most painful to the natural man, — the world's
' hatred and the world's reproach, contempt and bodily
4 pain, — are not tolerable merely but delightful ? And
4 does not this clearly shew, that there is that very
' change of Propensions, which you deny ? that the old
6 assemblage has been extirpated from his nature, and is
4 succeeded by others of a directly opposite character ?'
I reply, first by asking, — is it indeed true that the
old Propensions have been extirpated from his nature ?
Take Love of Approbation, e.g. is it indeed true, that the
thought of God's disapproval gives the Saint no pain ?
or less pain than it gives ordinary men ? or rather does it
not give him immeasurably more ? Take again Personal
Love — has the Saint less of this feeling towards God
and Christ, than ordinary men for each other? A
moment's consideration suffices to shew, that such a
statement as the above is so preposterous, so contradic-
tory to the most obvious facts, that nothing can possibly
be more so. If then e. g. the Saint has become in-
different to men's approbation — nay if he even delights
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 349
in their reproach, — it is for some reason most widely
different from the supposition, that the Love of Appro-
bation has been eradicated from his nature.
We will continue to take Love of Approbation as our
sample Propension ; and whatever is said of this, may
be most easily applied to the other Propensions also.
And it is obvious to remark, that the account to be
given of the Saint's indifference to human applause is
most simple. His mind is pervaded with the thought
of God, not of man ; and it is divine, not human, appro-
bation therefore, which he earnestly covets.
But we have further to explain why it is, that he is not
- merely indifferent to human applause, but that he rather
rejoices in its opposite. This will lead us back to a
psychological remark, already made in a different con-
nection. In treating on Love of Money, I explained that
when a single object is serviceable for avast assemblage
of further ends, those various ends so completely colour
our thought of the bonum utile, that it seems as though
a new Propension arose, directed to that bonum utile
itself (see n. 142, p. 284 and 288.) This is not of course
really the case ; it is the various ends, which really and
virtually influence us, through the intermediate object.
Only, since the object is one and the ends are very many ;
— since the object is constantly and explicitly before our
mind in our attempts at gaining it, and the ends not so ;
— they are merely presented to our mind in a vague
and confused mass.
Now, on the side of good, the same phenomenon is
seen. Human contempt, e. g. is felt by holy men as so
intensely conducive to ends which they have inexpres-
sibly at heart, that a new Propension seems to spring
up within them; they derive the keenest pleasure from
that object, which they have so long coloured with the
combined attractiveness of those various ends.
The following indeed is but a most brief and im-
perfect portion, in that great catalogue of ends. (1.)
Human contempt saves the good Christian from all those
temptations to vain-glory, which are otherwise so trying,
and which require such constant watchfulness. (2.) By
350 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
freeing him from such an impediment, it enables him to
gaze more directly and with more unclouded vision on
Heavenly Truth. (3.) It consequently enables him
to grow far more quickly in love of God and in every
virtue. (4.) Such growth is not only an object of love
to him for its own sake, but also as increasing his
heavenly reward ; as intensifying the degree, in which
he will see and love God for all eternity. (5.) This
same growth gives his intercessory prayer greater weight
with God, and (6) enables him to satisfy more effica-
ciously for his own sins and those of others. Then
(7) human contempt is a fresh mark of resemblance to
his crucified Lord, who is the deepest Object of his
affections ; and (8) it is welcomed by him also as the
suitable lot for such a sinner as he feels himself to be.
And the list, as I have said, might be quite indefinitely
prolonged.
It is not therefore that a new Propension springs up
within him, Love of being disapproved: — what can be
more absurd ? It is not this, but a most different fact.
His love of approbation is most abundantly satisfied, by
the thought of God and of other Heavenly Objects ; and
contented with this, he seeks no such comparatively
worthless food, as his fellow-creatures' praise on earth.
And at the same time, to be despised by his fellow-
creatures, is recognized by him as eminently serviceable
towards various ends, to which his other propensions
are powerfully attracted. Just so in regard to every
parallel case.
150. I have spoken thus at length on the higher
Propensions, because they are far more important to my
subject than the rest. Yet the others also must not go
without some degree of attention ; for the thesis, which
I profess to prove, is that all our propensions are most
usefully available in the cause of virtue. I will pro-
ceed then to the extremely opposite class, the Bodily
Propensions.
The chief Bodily Propensions will be Love of Eating ;
of Drinking ; and that which tempts against the Sixth
Commandment, which we may call the Propension of the
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 351
Flesh. To these may be added such others, as the
Love of Warmth when we are cold, and of Coldness when
we are warm ; the Love of Bodily Rest when we have
worked too much, and Love of Activity when we have
rested too much. In the same class also, should be
placed the pain caused by bodily lesion, to which we
have already referred (see n. 93, p. 197). In the same
class also, that most delightful feeling, which we call a
sense of good health ; which is experienced, when our
various bodily organs are in that state, which most fits
them for active and serviceable work. That each one
of these Propensions has some important office, in soli-
citing us to the performance of this or that duty, — this
is so obvious on the surface, that it would be impertinent
to shew it in detail. Yet something more should be said
about these Bodily Propensions ; and I will take, as
their sample and representative, the pleasure which we
derive from eating and drinking. On the other hand,
the Propension of the Flesh is in many respects of most
exceptional character ; and so far from being available
as a sample of others, requires quite a separate treat-
ment of its own. I will speak of it here, as soon as I
have said what seems desirable of the others ; but there
will be a further treatment also, appertaining to the next
Section.
We have more than once referred, to -those pleasures
and refreshments, which, by God's merciful appoint-
ment, accompany all our innocent worldly engage-
ments. Every process of manual work or industry, —
every intellectual process, — every occupation in short,
—has ordinarily and normally its concomitant enjoy-
ment.* This appointment of God is in deepest harmony
with the facts of our nature. In proportion indeed as
men advance towards the heights of perfection, (1), their
higher Propensions receive ordinarily, a far keener and
far more constant enjoyment from the Invisible World;
* " Dieu, par une sage disposition de Sa Providence, a mis de la facilite
et du plaisir en tout ce qui est necessaire a 1'entretien de la vie ; et il n'est
point de la douceur de Sa Conduite, qu'une chose, de laquelle on ne se pent
passer, devienne laborieuse et pe"nible."— SURIN, Lettres Spirituetle*, vol. i.
p. 233, 234.
352 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
and (2) even were it otherwise, their moral power is
far greater, of pursuing God's work under aridity.
But ordinary persons are most differently circum-
stanced. I am not denying (God forbid!) that the
merest beginner in spirituality is really cheered and
supported, — and that to a very appreciable extent, — by
the rest of his propensions in God ; yet (putting aside
cases rare and utterly exceptional) his joy in God is
neither at all continuous, nor at all sufficient by itself
to carry him forward. This being so, the conclusion
is manifest. His good habits are so fresh, arid his evil
tendencies so strong, that it is morally impossible for
him to continue perseveringly to resist temptation,
unless various refreshments and recreations be fur-
nished as he proceeds. Were it not then for this
merciful dispensation to which I have just referred,
he would be morally unable to resist successfully those
various temptations which cross his path.
And here, be it observed by the way, is one of the
greatest injuries which those inflict on their own hap-
piness, who give themselves up unreservedly to the
pursuit of keen and violent pleasures of a sensual
character. Such pleasures, by the constitution of our
nature, can be but sparingly obtained ; while on the
other hand indulgence in them indefinitely impairs our
relish for those tranquil, yet most really enlivening,
enjoyments, of which we have been speaking. And
this is one of the reasons, why it is so terrible a calamity
to have once begun such a course ; why the temptation
to repeat the indulgence is so woefully greater, than was
that which induced us first to pursue it.
Keturning then to the matter before us, I proceed
thus. As the various other innocent occupations of
life, are invested by our merciful Creator, each with its
own appropriate gratification; — so particularly this is
the case, with the necessary duty of supporting bodily
life. Not merely is the gratification of hunger in itself
a matter of enjoyment, but there are various pleasures
of palate also, which necessarily accompany it. I am
far of course from denying, that there is here much
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 353
danger of sin, and that temperance is a great duty ;
indeed in our theological work, we shall have to con-
sider precisely, what is that mode of surrendering our-
selves to any gratification, which renders the act sinful.
But I maintain most confidently, and shall in that part
of our work give reasons for the statement, that it is a
most serious mistake to suppose, that the deliberately
accepting such gratification is in itself at all sinful ; or
even that to persons of ordinary spiritual attainments,
the abstaining from it is subjectively preferable (see
n. 57, p. 124). Again, I admit freely, or rather urge
most earnestly, that in proportion as we advance towards
perfection, it becomes more and more our duty to
resist and repress the lower propensions. But I utterly
and absolutely deny, that it is either obligatory or
preferable, to begin by the attempt at refusing them
all satisfaction ; and in denying this, I am confident
that I am speaking in harmony with the Church's
spirit. It is certain, that as on the one hand she has
ever most loudly maintained the heroic excellence of
austerity, so on the other hand she has been no less
watchful against any intrusion of rigorism and harsh-
ness. Consider this one fact alone ; the habit, pre-
valent throughout the Church, of celebrating the
greater festivals by greater delicacies than are enjoyed
on ordinary days. Why, on the view which I am
opposing, such a procedure would change the most
holy periods of the year into the mere occasions of sin
and imperfection. And the Church has in every age
been censured accordingly. Just as one class of men
have regarded her as possessed with an unnatural love
of human suffering, so another class has ever de-
nounced her as lax and compromising: so that, from
the very first, she has been permitted to inherit her
Lord's reproach ; u Behold a man that is a glutton and
a drinker of wine, the friend of publicans and sinners.
And [yet] wisdom is justified by all her children."*
The notion, which I am opposing, is pregnant with im-
measurably greater and more fearful evil, than we
* Luke, vii. 34, 5.
A A
354 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
should at first suppose. Consider what has been
already said, that those who are novices in piety (1)
certainly do not obtain keen and constant enjoyment
from the thought of God; while (2) they have not the
moral power of persevering for a long period in His ser-
vice without sensible solace. Suppose then a certain
small number of such men were really persuaded, to
aim at renouncing all these innocent pleasures ; what
must ensue ? They would be actually driven to seek
their solace, in the sinful pleasures of pride and vain-
glory ; and in the more subtle forms of worldliness.
And observe how fact corresponds with this theory.
In every age of the Church, characters of the following
kind present themselves to our notice. We find men
who, at first sight, challenge our reverence, as glorious
models of superhuman austerity. Their doctrines are
condemned by the Church, or in some other way they
are strictly sifted ; and then what do we behold ?
They display themselves in their true colours, as
monsters of diabolical pride.
What has now been said, will suffice to explain
the view which appears to me true, of all our various
bodily Propensions. It remains to say a few words on
that exceptional one, which I have called the Pro-
pension of the Flesh. The direct purpose, for which
this has been implanted by God, is of course plain
enough : the propagation of mankind ; the continued
existence of men, who are Christ's redeemed and ca-
pable of sanctification. Undoubtedly it is appalling,
and again it is heart-breaking, to consider the terrible
amount of sin to which this Propension has led. Yet
other circumstances being as they are, some Propen-
sion of the kind was requisite, in order that mankind
should continue to exist in undiminished numbers.
It is true (no doubt) that the Propension of Personal
Love, — taken in connection with the mental pecu-
liarities of the two sexes, so supplementary of each
other, — would in very many cases lead to such exclu-
siveness of affection, between one man and one woman,
as exists under the holy sacrament of Matrimony.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 355
Perhaps the cases are far more than is sometimes sup-
posed, when this Propension of Personal Love has been
the4 main impulsive cause of marriage. But consider
the great burden which children are, to the great
majority of men ; consider the great anxiety, and great
pecuniary pressure, which they cause. Consider this,
and you will see very plainly, that unless some most
powerful instinct had been implanted which tends to
the generation of children, there would have been no
security at all, with the mass of men, that marriage
would have attained its very principal end.
There seems however the strongest reason for
thinking, that this Propension does not now exist in us
according to its natural state, but rather under a most
miserable and morbid exaggeration. A more detailed
consideration therefore of its phenomena, must be re-
served for the next Section, which is to treat expressly
on the degradation of our nature. Yet one concluding
remark on it will here be in place.
There are several, who are called by God to the
admirable height, of refusing all gratification to this
Propension: even to them — which might seem strange
— it performs most important services. There can be
no doubt, that through the arduousness of that conflict
which they have to sustain, habits of humility and
watchfulness are engendered, in a far greater degree
than would otherwise be the case. Then secondly,
a great additional motive is supplied them for the
practice of perfection; viz. the fear, lest God should
otherwise refuse them that grace, whereby they shall
in fact triumph over the assaults of this Propension.
And lastly, by the triumph itself, (in those who are
victorious) an invaluable element, both of heroism and
of tenderness, accrues to the character.
151. The last class of Propensions to which I shall
refer, may be called by one compendious name the
4 Love of Beauty.' I include under this head, love of
beautiful scenes, of architecture, of music, and the like.
We may conveniently also include, love of those enjoy-
ments, which are derivable from the sense of smell.
356 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
There is a very great diversity, as to the degree in which
this or that person is susceptible of these various plea-
sures ; but the vast majority of mankind are in greater
or less degree under their influence. The benefit
afforded by these propensions to the increase of virtue
is so obvious, that the only difficulty is, to marshal in
due order the various thoughts which throng the mind.
(1.) By increasing the amount of innocent recrea-
tion, they very considerably lessen the temptations to
sin, and increase the facility of practising virtue. This
advantage is far greater, than might at first blush
appear ; as will be most evident, if we consider what I
have recently urged, on the great difficulty experienced
by ordinary men, when they try to persevere in God's
service under circumstances of dullness and aridity.
(2.) They are of great service in lessening the
undue domination of the bodily Propensions. No one
will doubt, that we are far less unfavourably circum-
stanced in regard to piety, that we present a far less
powerful barrier to the Holy Spirit's operations, — in
proportion as we pursue the enjoyment of beautiful
scenery or music, rather than the lower pleasures of
sense.
(3.) These Profusions 'are capable of being enlisted
much more directly, and with much greater efficacity, in
the service of our Lord : and the Church has very largely
availed herself of them for this purpose. Who can
exaggerate the beneficial effects of music, towards pro-
ducing sensible devotion in the more ordinary class of
Christians ? What exercises are more animating and
inspiriting, than congregational hymnody ? What ex-
ternal appliance can be named, which is so serviceable
in drawing the mass of men from worldly thoughts, and
for the time bringing them (as it were) close on the
gate of Heaven, as some touching strain on the organ,
or some sweet and soft harmony of voices ? Again,
consider the use ever made by the Church of painting ;
not only indeed for the purpose of stimulating sensible
devotion, but also of bringing the Mysteries of Faith
more definitely and more interestingly before the mind.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 357
Nay the very sense of smell has its place in the beauti-
ful whole ; as in the use of incense at Mass and Bene-
diction.
(4.) What has been hitherto said, applies to the great
mass of men. But there are certain souls, gifted with a
far keener and more sensitive organization, in whom this
perception of beauty seems quite different in kind from
that experienced by their fellow-men ; and in them a still
further religious effect is to be observed. Such re-
marks as the following, have more than once been made
in various shapes, by such gifted men.
4 Suppose I am engaged in gazing on some en-
4 chanting scene of loveliness. First, my emotions are
* absolutely undescribable ; so thrilling are they, so
* subduing, so overwhelming. If you have yourself had
'no experience of such emotions, in vain should I
4 attempt to describe them ; any more than I could
4 explain the nature of light to one born blind : simply
* I have a sense, which you have not. This is my first
4 remark : and my second is, how this beauty with holy
4 violence draws me to God ; how peremptorily it refuses
4 to be rested in as an end. I feel a pensive, melancholy,
4 yearning, for something still absent. I wish, as it were,
* to embrace this beauteous scene before me ; but it
4 eludes my grasp: if I try to draw nearer, it vanishes;
4 it is dissolved into rocks, trees, and water, which are
4 its component parts indeed, but which in themselves
4 have no such beauty. Thus it bears witness against
4 itself, that it is a shadow and not a reality.'
The conclusion, drawn from these considerations, is
one surely, which recommends itself to the judgment of
the, philosopher, no less than to the feelings of those
who are thus sensitively organized. 4 Surely,' it is
argued, c these exhibitions of natural beauty point to
4 something altogether beyond and above themselves ;
4 they are but adumbrations, adapted to our present
4 perceptive powers, of the Eternal and Supreme
4 Beauty ; of that Beauty, which is so transcendant and
4 so ravishing, that its contemplation will be our all-
4 sufficient Beatitude throughout endless ages.'
358 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
There is a striking passage in the " British Critic "
of 1838, which briefly expresses this view of the case.
" All [i. e. the whole constitution of the physical world]
is magnificent promise, unsubstantial and encouraging. Is there
not something very strange and pregnant in the mere fact, that
an assemblage of lifeless, senseless, atoms, should be enabled
to excite in moral beings those apprehensions of beauty and
sublimity, with which the physical world doubtless does over-
power us ? Can these apprehensions be more, or can they
be less, than indications of great spiritual truths ; a temporary
and arbitrary system, for training our minds to receive notions
which are as yet beyond us? They surely are too baseless to
be more ; too noble to be less All nature seems to
invite our affections but to reject them, and to testify of a"
Greater Who is behind. *— Jan. 1838, p. 216, 7.
And the same general doctrine, thus expressed in
regard to the beauty of natural scenery, has been put
forth by Father Newman in the case of music.
" To many men, the very names which the science employs are
utterly incomprehensible. To speak of an idea or a subject seems
to be fanciful or trifling, and of the views which it opens upon
us to be childish extravagance ; yet is it possible, that that in-
exhaustible evolution and disposition of notes, so rich yet so
simple, so intricate yet so regulated, so various yet so majestic,
should be a mere sound, which is gone and perishes ? Can it be,
that those mysterious stirrings of heart, and keen emotions,
and strange yearnings after we know not what, and awful im-
pressions from we know not whence, should be wrought in us
by what is unsubstantial, and comes and goes, and begins and
ends in itself ? It is not so ; it cannot be. No ; they have
escaped from some higher sphere ; they are the outpourings of
eternal harmony in the medium of created sound; they are
echoes from our Home ; they are the voice of Angels, or the
Magnificat of Saints, or the living laws of Divine Governance,
or the Divine Attributes ; something are they besides them-
selves, which we cannot compass, which we cannot utter, —
though mortal man, and he perhaps not otherwise distinguished
above his fellows, has the gift of eliciting them." — Sermons
before Oxford University, p. 349.
We have now gone through so large a list of
our various Propensions, that no doubt (I think) can
* In the original — " of a greater system which is behind."
st
or
I
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 359
remain in your mind, on the truth of our general propo-
sition. And thus we complete the fifth argument
adducible for our thesis. We have seen, that our Pro-
pensions alone are the cause of our not leading lives of
simply spotless virtue ; and we have also seen, that there
is not one of these Propensions which has not im-
portant service to perform, in the interests of virtue.
Can there be a stronger proof, that virtue is the end for
which our nature has been constituted ?
152. I prepare the way for our sixth argument, by a
general remark, which follows at once from the map of
our Propensions that has been just drawn out. Each
Propension of course aims immediately at its object ;
Hunger aims at food ; Anger at vindictive retribution ;
Love of Popularity at popularity. But in some cases
that object is in itself and primarily beneficial to ourselves,
in other cases it is in itself and primarily beneficial to
others. As an instance of the first class, take Self-
charity, or again Love of Knowledge. These Propen-
sions lead me to promote respectively my own happi-
ness, and my own possession of knowledge ; in other
words, they lead me to pursue objects, which are mainly
and directly beneficial to myself. As a very strong in-
stance of the second class, take Compassion : this can
only be gratified at all, by benefiting & fellow -creature.
The same may be said on the Propension of Gratitude.
again consider the Love of Communicating know-
ledge ; the great pleasure which many men derive, from
imparting to others their intellectual acquisitions : this
pleasure cannot by possibility be enjoyed, without ex-
erting ourselves for the advantage of others. In the
case of Personal and of General Love, we have already
drawn this very distinction : we have divided them into
'Amor Benevolentiae,' which leads us directly to the
benefit or service of another; and ' Amor Concupis-
centiae,' which leads directly to our own.
There are several cases no doubt, in which it is
difficult to decide, whether a Propension belongs to the
former or the latter class ; whether its object primarily
tends to others' benefit, or to our own. And in all
360 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
cases, there is a very important reciprocity of benefit :
those objects which primarily benefit myself, ultimately
benefit others also ; those which primarily benefit others,
ultimately benefit myself. Thus (confining our atten-
tion to merely earthly results) if I gratify my Love of
Knowledge, I primarily benefit myself; but unless I am
unusually reserved, I ultimately benefit others also. On
the other hand, if I gratify Compassion, I primarily be-
nefit another : yet in so doing I obtain myself a two-fold
advantage; viz. (1) the elevation of iny own character,
and (2) the raising up friends for myself against any
future time of trouble or distress. Still on the whole,
the two-fold division of Propensions, in accordance with
this principle, is undoubtedly a just division.
Let us call the former of these classes c self-regard-
ing : ' the latter then would be suitably expressed by
the term ' extra-regarding ;' but as this is rather cum-
brous, let us drop a syllable and call them ' ex-regard-
ing.' So ' Amor Benevolentise' is ex-regarding Love ;
' Amor Concupiscentise,' self-regarding.
On counting over these Propensions respectively, we
shall find that, according to the average condition of
human nature, the ex-regarding are fully as strong, fully
as importunate, as the others. Still many persons are
of course in a class, either below or above this average
condition. So you have selfish men in great numbers ;
that is men, with whom the self-regarding more or less
preponderate in strength over the others. A selfish
man by temperament, is one in whom by nature this is
the case ; a selfish man by habit, is one who has cul-
tivated the former and neglected the latter. And here
we are led to one obvious conclusion : viz. that selfish-
ness ' does not pay? that it defeats its own end. Hap-
piness can only be proportionate, to the degree in which
our various Propensions are gratified. But the selfish
man, so far as he is such, refuses all gratification to one-
half of his propensions, and those perhaps naturally
the strongest. What kind of happiness can be his, who
hardly ever enjoys the pleasure, and never in a great
degree, of gratifying Friendship, Compassion, Gratitude ?
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 361
And so your selfish men, with long-headed maxims of
shrewdness ever in their mouths, — ' I will never neglect
my own interest ; no such fool as that :' and the like ;—
are (to say the least) far from being that class of men,
who really attain the greatest degree of earthly hap-
piness.
Here then we may draw out our sixth argument.
It is a metaphysical truth, that (circumstanced as we
are) we act most sinfully in living only for ourselves :
the great majority are called on to live also for their
fellow-men,* and all to live chiefly for God. Now
parallel with this metaphysical truth, is a psychological
fact; viz. that unless we live in great degree for our fel-
low-men and for God ; — unless we keep Him and them
habitually in our thoughts ; — we cannot lead thoroughly
happy lives : for one half at least of our natural cravings
will be violently thwarted and repressed. Here surely
is a reason of great strength, for holding that our nature
has been formed for virtue.
153. The seventh is a still more cogent argument.
Trace the progress of a holy man towards perfection, —
what are those Propensions which he will more and
more gratify ? what are those which he will more and
more repress ? Of course I am not for a moment for-
getting, the indefinite difference which exists between
this and that man's vocation ; how immeasurably greater
in that amount of worldly gratification which A. is
called to resign, than that whose abandonment falls
within B.'s vocation. Still on the whole, in proportion
as we advance towards perfection, in that degree our
life tends in a greater proportion to consist of these
two things : 1st, contemplating God and Heavenly
Objects ; and 2ndly, working for them. In other words,
in proportion as we advance more towards perfection,
we more and more gratify those Propensions (1) which
are satisfied by the direct contemplation of God and
Heavenly Objects; and (2) those, the satisfaction of
which is absolutely inseparable from the very fact of
* I speak of external life : of course even solitaries are called on to love
their fellow-men, and pray for them.
362 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
working for God. These two classes, I say, we shall
more and more gratify ; the others we shall more and
more repress. Now let it be most carefully observed,
that those which we shall more and more repress, are pre-
cisely those which even worldly men can gratify but
occasionally and at intervals ; whereas those which we
shall more and more gratify, are those which may per-
vade our whole life. This will at once be evident, on
turning to the respective catalogues. It is Love of
Honour, e.g. or Power, or Money, which colours the
whole of a godless man's Life ; not Love of Sensual
Pleasures nor even of ^Esthetieal Enjoyments. But it is
precisely Love of Honour, of Power, of Acquisition,
which any one may and does gratify more and more
deeply, more and more without stint or measure, in
proportion as he gives himself up more entirely to God.
Now who can be so wild as to maintain, that this
most remarkable fact is due wholly to chance f Yet if
it be not due to chance, what can it manifest, except a
most remarkable and distinct provision, on our Creator's
part, tending to the result, that the path of virtue and of
happiness shall be made identical?
This deep and tranquil rest of our most powerful
and pervasive propensions, in God and God's service,
would seem to be that most precious gift, so often com-
memorated in Scripture under the name of 'Peace.'
To this again refers St. Augustin's often-quoted address
to God: 'Thou hast made us for Thyself: and our
heart is restless and unquiet, till we find our repose in
Thee ! ' It has always drawn me specially to Lombez's
great spiritual treatise, that he makes this great and
paramount blessing the central figure (as it were) in his
picture; the point from which all his ascetical principles
radiate, and to which they converge. Hear again St.
Alphonsus, quoting in his own favour another great
Saint also.
" S.Franciscus Salesius, ut Deo alliceret peccatores, potissimum
curabat, ut ipsi cognoscerent pacem qua fruuntur illi qui Deo
adhcerent, et vitam infelicem quam ducit qui a Deo alienus est
Curetur ut pcenitens cognoscat pacem interiorem, qua do-
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 363
naritur, qui Dei amicitirt fruuntur ; et infernum quern ante tempus
experiuntur, qui alieni sunt a Deo : addita pernicie temporal!,
quam secum trahit peccatum.' — Praxis Confessarii, nn. 5 and 15.
The same general truth is contained in the various
statements, made by theologians, on that c beatitudo im-
perfecta' which is attainable here in via. Thus Bellar-
mine declares it as a thing quite evident (cum satis con-
stet) c beatitudinem in hac vita in virtute perfectd sitam
esse:'* and declares that, even on this ground alone,
'ratio postulat, ut magno studio in hancrem (virtutem)
incumbauius.7 Other theologians do not speak quite so
clearly and distinctly as this ; nor do they attach to the
subject an importance approaching that, which (in my
humble judgment) it really deserves: still the general
drift of their statements is in the same direction.
154. This whole consideration leads at once to an
enquiry, very closely related to it. How far has God
(1) so constituted our nature, and (2) so providentially
arranged external circumstances, that virtue and earthly
happiness are coincident ? For a satisfactory discussion
of this matter, I consider that we have not sufficient
data ; at all events I do not feel myself competent to
attempt it. Yet something may be said perhaps, both
true and important ; though it will fall far short of a
complete and thorough investigation.
And first I will say, that there is hardly any subject,
on which it is of more extreme importance to avoid
anything like exaggeration ; while there are few, on
which moralists have greater tendency (most uninten-
tionally) to exaggerate. They are most keenly con-
scious, how great is the peace implanted in them by
a Christian life; — how absolutely satisfactory to their
highest affections are those Objects, to which they have
given their hearts ; — how low and contemptible are those
idols, on which worldly men squander their affections ;
and all this leads them, most unaffectedly and sincerely,
to regard such men as plunged in deepest misery. Yet
if the fact really be not so, or at least not universally so,
then (as I just now observed) there is more than one
* De AmissS, Gratia, 1. 6. c. 10, n. 6.
364 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
reason, wiry it is of very great importance not to make any
allegation on the subject, which facts will fail to sustain.
(1.) One reason why this is so important, is the
great danger of the ' incredulus odi.' Worldly men
are certainly not naturally disposed to regard their
condition as so lamentable ; if therefore the picture be
too highly coloured, there is great danger that they
will not even look at it ; if facts are stated which their
own experience falsifies, they will not give due attention
to other facts, which their own experience (if they
would but consult it) would most completely confirm.
Then (2) there is real danger, if we press too far
the necessary coexistence of piety and earthly happi-
ness, lest we transgress an important point of doctrine.
There is no more fundamental tenet of Christianity
than this ; that by way of the C?*oss we advance to our
Crown, and that suffering is the chief instrument for
strengthening and perfecting our virtue.
And now for such remarks on the general subject,
as may seem warrantable and safe. It would appear
certainly at first sight probable, from the facts brought
together in the preceding numbers, not merely that the
pious man must immeasurably exceed others in earthly
happiness, but that those others must be utterly mise-
rable. Yet candour obliges us to admit, that many
worldly men do on the whole lead lives of great enjoy-
ment : particularly if they be gifted with good health
and pecuniary competence ; and if they are exempt
from the more violent and passionate emotions. It is
true indeed that this happiness is most precarious and in-
secure. For first, even so far as this world is concerned,
it is at the mercy of a thousand accidents, which may
occur at any moment, and the like of which do con-
stantly occur. And secondly, their prospects as to the
next life are such, as must absolutely appal them, if
they would but steadily contemplate the facts of the
case. But it is truly wonderful how great a power
such persons possess, of refusing to contemplate the
facts of the case ; of giving themselves up to this or
that worldly enjoyment; and, in the pursuit or posses-
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUK NATURE TO VIRTUE. 365
sion of such enjoyment, of forgetting altogether both
God and themselves. This power is simply owing, as
I believe, to the corruption of our nature, on which in
the next Section I hope to speak ; but whatever its
cause, its existence is undeniable.
Now in comparing the happiness of good and bad
men, we must put out of account those, who are called
by God to the highest paths of Sanctity, and who are
faithful to that vocation. Of such men, both the griefs
on the one hand, and the consolations on the other, are
in a most special sense the immediate work of God's
hands, for the direct purpose of their sanctification.
These griefs and consolations, I say, do not come from
the action of circumstances on the constitution of their
nature, but by God's direct and immediate agency ;
their frequency and their degree does not depend on
any action of general laws, but on the special circum-
stances of that individual soul. This then is one reason,
why there would be no meaning in any attempted com-
parison between their earthly happiness and that of
worldly men : and another reason is, because their
sorrows and their joys are so utterly heterogeneous
from those of worldly men, that no kind of comparison
is even possible.
It must not of course be supposed, that God exer-
cises a less watchful and minute Providence over
ordinary Christians than over Saints. Yet in the
former case that Providence is carried on, in a very
far greater degree, by and through general laws ; and
it is therefore quite intelligible to inquire whether,
according to these laws, virtue is or is not ordinarily
more conducive to happiness, than is the opposite course
of conduct. It is true again, in ordinary Christians as
in Saints, that their joys arid sorrows are on the whole
different in kind from those which befall worldly men.
Still this holds in a far less degree in ordinary Chris-
tians than in Saints ; and in the former case it by no
means holds to so great an extent, as that every kind of
comparison is rendered impossible.
There are various considerations then which, in my
366 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
humble judgment, will lead us most gravely to doubt,
whether real advancement in virtue can ever be opposed
to increase in earthly happiness.
Thus ( 1 ) according to the very trite remark, worldly
men are most happy at those times when we see them ;
interior men at those times when we do not see them.
It is impossible therefore to draw any trustworthy in-
ference, on the happiness really appertaining to a
worldly man, by merely observing him in the general
intercourse of society.
(2.) There are the strongest grounds for believing,
that worldly men carry about with them the constant
sense, how utterly hollow and unsatisfactory are their
real state and prospects. We have already (see n. 127,
p. 252) drawn attention to the fact, that such men ever
avoid the contemplation of their own interior, as care-
fully as that of the most disgusting object in nature.
But it is very observable, by how constant and spon-
taneous an instinct they do this. It is not, that from
time to time they turn their thoughts within, and then
recoil from the spectacle which they behold : they never
for a moment do so. How is this to be explained,
except by the hypothesis above stated? viz. that they
bear about with them a constant, unceasing, inextin-
guishable sense, of their own miserable plight? More
will be said on this most remarkable phenomenon, in our
theological course ; here we advert to the fact, for the
sake of its obvious bearing on our present argument.
Surely this sense of inward unsatisfactoriness and of
most serious peril, must be a most serious drawback
from their enjoyment.
Then consider (3) how little they value those very
things, to the acquisition of which their whole life has
been devoted; whether their object has been wealth,
or power, or whatever else. To fix our ideas, let us
take the instance of an ambitious politician. Though
he be at the highest point of preferment; — though he
have squandered his best years in working actively for
its attainment; — when, once gained, it crumbles within
his grasp : its pursuit was intoxicating, but its possession
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 367
is disappointing. Where shall we find such a politician,
who will contemplate the high position he has attained,
and then say to himself with perfect sincerity, — ' this is
indeed a sufficient reward for all the pains devoted to
its pursuit ? '
The only case which, even on the surface, can seem
an exception to this general remark, is the case of
sensual men. Yet is there any one of them, who, on
looking back at the end of life on his past enjoyments,
will say that they were really purchased at no extrava-
gant price, by such sacrifice of labour, of wealth, of
reputation, as has been involved in his career?
Contrast with this the interior man. Suppose him
to recognise unmistakeably, that — comparing his state
with that of a year or two back — he sees, far more
clearly and constantly, the depth of his own sinfulness ;
that by help of prayer and grace he is able to triumph
far more constantly over this or that temptation ; that
he realizes the invisible world far more keenly and
pervasively. Well : he rejoices in this increase of
piety, as in a most precious possession. He regards it
indeed (1) as intrinsecally excellent, and (2) as greatly
conducive to His eternal interests ; and so far, the fact
does not bear on our argument: but he rejoices in it
also, and cherishes it most joyfully, as contributing
most importantly to his present happiness.
(4.) Our fourth consideration shall be based on
what has been said in this Section, as regards the com-
pleteness with which all our Propensions can be grati-
fied in the service of God. In the case of worldly
men, this propension ever conflicts with that. What
worldly career is possible, in which all these various
propensions, above recited, can receive their due food
and nourishment? or even in which any approach is
made to such a result? If a man surrenders himself
to one tyrant Propension — if, e.g. for the sake of am-
bition, he sacrifices Duty, Personal Love, Popularity,
and the rest, — these various unsatisfied Propensions
must inflict on him more or les.s of serious suffering.
If on the other hand he aims at giving to all a little
368 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
gratification, they clamour painfully for more. Let it
be said again. Those earthly objects, which correspond
to these various Propensions, are mutually antagonistic:
if therefore we thus indulge those propensions a little,
they clamour for more ; if we indulge them much, they
clash with each other. In either case, they produce
jar and conflict in our mind ; and afford the most
striking contrast to that union and harmony, where-
with these very Propensions enjoy their appropriate
objects in a good man's life.
(5.) Then consider, lastly, the great peace and
serenity of mind, which the good man's resignation to
God's Will must ever tend to engender. He firmly
believes, (remember) and realizes the truth, that every-
thing which happens to him, great and small, is specially
appointed by a God, Who tenderly loves him and most
earnestly desires his eternal happiness. Surely then,
under even the very heaviest trials, he has a ground
for the deepest peace and tranquillity ; and a ground,
to which the worldly man, even in the lightest mis-
chances of every -day life, is a total stranger. Such
light mischances (as daily experience shews us) inflict
on the latter class of men immeasurably greater pain,
than we should at all have expected from their trivial
character. It is astonishing, how mere a trifle will
destroy the happiness of a vain-glorious, or again of an
ambitious, man, for a day or for a week.
Hitherto we have spoken of those worldly men,
who are able to secure considerable enjoyment; those
worldly men (in other w^ords) who are well circum-
stanced in regard to health and money, and who are
troubled with no deep and violent emotions. But
these at last are a comparatively small number. Piety
imparts its best consolations to the sick and the poor;
what comfort do these men receive from the world?
Or take again the worldly man, who loses that very
object to which he has devoted his life : a soldier, who
lies under the unanswerable imputation of cowardice ;
a money-getting man, who has lost his whole sub-
stance, and has no means of replacing it; an intel-
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 369
lectual man, whose eye-sight fails him or whose facul-
ties decay. What is the predicament of such as these,
if they have not learnt to seek their happiness in God?
Or lastly, consider men who have been endued by God
with keen and deep sensibilities : what are they with-
out piety ? Father Newman here brings out what I
would say, with insurpassable force and accuracy of
expression. He is speaking of St. Augustine's conver-
sion, and these are his remarks.
" Men of ordinary minds are not so circumstanced as to feel
the misery of irreligion. That misery consists in the perverted
and discordant action of the various functions and faculties of the
soul, which have lost their legitimate governing power, and are
unable to regain it except at the hands of their Maker. Now the
run of irreligious men do not suffer in any great degree from this
disorder, and are not miserable ; they have neither great talents,
nor strong passions ; they have not within them the materials of
rebellion, in such measure as to threaten their peace. They fol-
low their own wishes ; they yield to the bent of the moment; they
act on inclination, not on principle ; but their motive powers are
neither strong nor various enough to be troublesome. Their
minds are in no sense under rule : but anarchy is not in their
state a case of confusion, but of deadness ; like what is said to be
the internal condition of Eastern cities and provinces at present,
in which, though the government is weak or null, the body
politic goes on without any great embarrassment or collision of
its members one with another, by the force of inveterate habit.'
It is very different, when the moral and intellectual principles are
vigorous, active, and developed. Then, if the governing power
be feeble, all the subordinates are in the position of rebels in
arms ; and what the state of a mind is under such circumstances,
the analogy of a civil community will suggest to us. Then we
have before us the melancholy spectacle, of high aspirations witli-
out an aim ; a hunger of the soul unsatisjied ; and a never-ending
restlessness and inward warfare of its various faculties. Gifted
minds, if not submitted to the rightful authority of religion,
become the most unhappy and the most mischievous. They
need at once an object to feed upon, and the power of self-
mastery ; and the love of tfieir Maker, and nothing but it, sup-
plies both the one and the other. We have seen in our own
day, in the case of a popular poet, an impressive instance of a
great genius, throwing off the fear of God, seeking for happiness
in the creature, roaming unsatisfied from one object to another,
breaking his mind upon itself, and bitterly confessing and im-
B B
370 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
parting his wretchedness to all around. I have no wish at all to
compare him to St. Augustine ; indeed, if we may say it without
presumption, the very different termination of their trial seems to
indicate some great difference in their respective modes of encoun-
tering it. The one dies of premature decay, to all appearance a
hardened infidel ; and if he is still to have a name, will live in
the mouths of men by writings at once blasphemous and im-
moral : the other is a Saint and Doctor of the Church. Each
makes confessions; the one to the Saints, the other to the powers
of evil. And does not the difference of the two discover itself in
some measure even to our own eyes, in the very history of their
wanderings and pinings ? At least, there is no appearance in
St. Augustine's case of that dreadful haughtiness, sullenness,
love of singularity, vanity, irritability, and misanthropy, which
were too certainly the characteristics of our own countryman.
Augustine was, as his early history shews, a man of affectionate
and tender feelings, and open and amiable temper ; and, above
all, he sought for some excellence external to his own mind, in-
stead of concentrating all his contemplations on himself.
" But let us consider what his misery was : — it was that of a
mind imprisoned, solitary, and wild with spiritual thirst; and
forced to betake itself to the strongest excitements, by way of
relieving itself of the rush and violence of feelings, of which the
knowledge of the Divine Perfections was the true and sole sus-
tenance. He ran into excess, not from love of it, but from this
fierce fever of mind. 1 1 sought what I might love/ he says in
his Confessions, e in love with loving, and safety I hated, and a
way without snares. For within me was a famine of that in-
ward food, Thyself, my God ; yet through that famine I was not
hungered, but was without all longing for incorruptible sus-
tenance ; not because filled therewith, but the more empty, the
more I loathed it."' —Church of the Fathers, pp. 226, 7, 8.
We shall better see the force of these various con-
siderations, if we state precisely the question before us.
For the question is not precisely, whether good men
are on an average happier than worldly men ; but
whether this individual man, with the same tempera-
ment, in the same state of health, under the same
external circumstances, will or will not be happier, if
he has consistently sought his rest in God, than if he
has sought it in the world. I have said l under the
same external circumstances;' though of course the
argument fairly requires me to add, — except so far as
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 371
those circumstances would be changed by the mere
fact of living interiorly.
Now in considering such a question as this, great
regard must be had to the peculiarity of different indi-
viduals. There is no psychological fact in the whole
range of them more remarkable, than the wonderful
difference of men from each other, as to their natural
susceptibility of happiness. No doubt, bodily health
has a great deal to do with this; and past circum-
stances also may greatly affect our present capabilities
of enjoyment. Yet on the whole I strongly incline
to think, that its chief cause is far deeper than either
of these explanations would suggest. God has made
one man joyous, and another melancholy, by natural
temperament ; and as God has made him, so he will
remain.
Yet even here something may be said on a good
man's happiness. Observation will certainly shew, that
in many good men there is a certain most strange and
impressive union often found, of this natural melan-
choly with inward peace ; the deep happiness, engen-
dered by a good life, becomes more remarkable, from
the superficial sadness below which it is to be found.
And as this is true in regard to natural tempera-
ment, so is it also in regard to external circumstances.
It is very remarkable, how great a degree of external
agitation and excitement, is compatible with real and
true enjoyment of that great gift of peace. There is
plainly no inconsistency at all in the supposition, that
while two or three Propensions are causing grief or
excitement, the great body of Propensions may at the
same moment be enjoying a deep and tranquil gra-
tification. And this will be made still more intelligible,
by considering an important psychological fact; a fact
which we shall have to treat carefully, in the very impor-
tant discussion hereafter to be attempted, on the relations
between Intellect and Will. I allude to the great num-
ber of implicit acts ever proceeding in the mind : acts,
which bear most importantly on the agent's happiness
and character, and of which nevertheless he is wholly
372 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
unaware. It will be remarked also, that the enjoyment
which results from the thought of this or that happy
object, continues long after the thought itself has come
to an end. See n. 96, p. 203.
I have already said that the question before us
comes in fact to this: — Will the same individual man
ordinarily gain or lose as to earthly happiness, in pro-
portion as he pursues the interior life ? But we may
in fairness add even a second qualification. Let us
suppose, that a man has for years been plunged in
worldliness, or even in great and gross sin. The grace
of God efficaciously touches his soul, and he turns
from his evil ways. Supposing it were true that,
during the earlier period at least of his new course,
there were a real diminution of enjoyment; — this fact
in all fairness should be put down, not to his present
piety, but to his past recklessness and irreligion.
On the whole then it may well be doubted, whether
in any one case it can truly be said that earthly hap-
piness is diminished by the practice of virtue. That
in the immense majority of instances at least, great
increase of such happiness is so obtained, cannot admit
of fair doubt.
I may add however in conclusion, that this whole
question is not a very practical one. The essential
happiness, to which a good Christian looks, belongs to
Heaven and not to Earth ; nor would it in any way
take him by surprise, if it were necessary to make
some sacrifice of temporal happiness, in order to his
attaining eternal. There are two collateral matters
indeed which are of great moment ; but on these, 'after
all which has been said, there can be no possible
doubt. They are the two following :
( 1 . ) We have . been occupied, during this Section,
in drawing out arguments for the proposition, that our
nature has been formed for virtue. One of these
arguments is, that God has so specially, and in such
various ways, provided for the happiness, even for the
earthly happiness, of those who give themselves to
Him. This proposition at all events will (I think) be
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 373
denied by none, who have considered what we have
urged in its behalf.
(2.) We have often adverted to the fact, that
ordinary Christians have in so small a degree the
moral power, of persevering in their interior course,
without the help of pleasurable emotion. This being
so, it is a fact of very great importance to the spiritual
life, that such men can always obtain quite enough of
rest and solace in the service of God, to give them the
fullest moral power of persevering in their high enter-
prise. And this has been (I hope) most abundantly shewn
in the present Section. It is quite manifest, from what
has been said, that every one has full moral power
(if he pleases) to make God's service his one central
and pervasive object: the object, which influences all
his deeper emotions ; which gives zest and animation
to the main current of his life.
155. Some Catholic philosophers, in considering
the imperfect beatitude attainable on earth, seem to
consider it as consisting, very far more in the prospect
of future felicity, than in the enjoyment of present
peace : nay they speak of it, as though they placed it
almost exclusively in the former.* A few words should
be said on this statement, were it only in deference
to the authority of those Catholics who have main-
tained it. Now this proposition, that our present
happiness mainly consists in our hope of future Bliss,
may be understood in three different senses. Let us
consider them in order.
First it may be understood (so to speak) in a ne-
gative sense. The statement intended may be this ;
that the happiness of a good man would be utterly
destroyed, if he had not solid and substantial grounds
for expecting its continuance ; nay, and that it would
be most terribly diminished, unless he had grounds for
* So Solimani : " Vitse hujus felicitas sita potissimt est in prcemii post
obi turn obtinendi spe minim e fallaci, quae morum integritate nitatur." Vol.
ii. p. 232. On the other hand, Dmowski speaks of " imperfecta beatitudinis
species, quse in vitd ex virtute et rationis pnescripto peractA, cum spe
futurae et perfectse felicitatis assequendae, consistit." Vol. iii. p. 29.
374 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
expecting after life that completeness and intensity
of Bliss, to which we look forward under the Gospel.
In this sense, no thoughtful Christian can doubt the
proposition. It is true that a worldly man is able to
possess great enjoyment, though he have means of
knowing that nothing can be more gloomy than his
prospects after death. But this is because of the phe-
nomenon to which we have so often referred ; viz. that
worldly men have a wonderful power of 'tot 'ally forgetting
themselves and their own interior, while they throw
themselves eagerly, for gratification, on the various
objects of sense or of worldly pleasure. It is the cha-
racteristic of a good man, that he does look within ;
that he does contemplate his own state and prospects.
If then that state and those prospects are of so miserably
gloomy a character as above supposed, his wretched-
ness must be intolerable.
A second sense, in which the above proposition
may be understood, is the following. ' Of all those
' various spiritual enjoyments, which render Christ's
' yoke easy and His burden light, the one main and
' principal enjoyment, is the looking forward to our
4 future Reward.' In this sense the proposition appears
to me very doubtful. It is quite certain of course, that
the prospect of Beatitude is a most important consti-
tuent in the good man's present happiness ; but is it
the chief, the almost sole, constituent ? This is the
precise question which we are here asking.
That the prospect of heavenly Bliss is a most im-
portant constituent in the just man's happiness, is (I
say) quite certain. The Propension of Self-charity is
gratified almost exclusively by this thought. Self-
assertion also receives much gratification from looking
to the future. Personal Love again receives pleasure,
from the thought of that time, when the mutual love of
O '
God and man will be so far more perfect. Love of the
Marvellous looks with keenest delight to the thought
of those wonders that are to be revealed. All our
Propensions, so far as they agree in seeking pleasure
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 375
and recoiling from pain, are drawn most powerfully to
the thought of that happy Life, where all suffering shall
be absent and all joy abound.
All this is undoubtedly true : yet still I cannot but
think it doubtful, whether this thought be the chief
part of a good man's earthly happiness. I cannot but
think that an interior man would speak somewhat as
follows. * Truly it is a happy thing, the looking for-
4 ward to future Bliss ; and yet the chief part of my
4 present happiness arises less from this than from
' other things. It arises rather from the close bond
4 of love, which now unites me to my dearest Saviour ;
* from my consciousness of His tender affection, and
4 niy power of in some degree returning that affection.
It arises from my basking in the sunshine (as it
were) of my Creator's approval. It arises from that
communion with God in prayer, which I so constantly
enjoy ; and from that far closer communion with Him,
which is imparted in the Holy Eucharist. It arises
from my consciousness of a will, at peace with itself,
and submitting with absolute resignation to the Pro-
4 vidence of God ; a will, not torn asunder by conflict-
4 ing emotions, but fixed uudividedly on my True End.'
I am inclined to think this would be the true
account of the case ; though I am far from speaking
with any confidence, and the matter at last is of small
moment. An argument for my opinion may be grounded
on this fact. Suppose a good man is oppressed by
some most severe trial ; bodily torment, or mental
anguish. What is that thought, to which he has in-
stinctive recourse for alleviation ? does he turn his
thoughts to the Bliss which is in store for him here-
after,— the wonders of the Beatific Vision, — the absence
of all pain, which is to be his endless privilege ? Surely
he rather turns to the contemplation of Christ Crucified ;
of his Saviour dying, and dying for his love. What is
the special charm of that thought ? Doubtless, that it
enables him to value that Saviour's present love, and to
elicit happy acts of open-hearted confidence and col-
loquy.
376 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
(3.) We have now considered two different sei,
in which the proposition before us may be intended.
In the first sense, it is most undeniably true ; in the
second, I am inclined (though with diffidence) to dissent
from it. But there is a third sense also imaginable, of
the following kind. It may have been intended then
to say, that at last the possession of present enjoyment
is no matter of great moment ; that all men have full
moral power (by means of grace) to work steadily for
God, with a future reward in prospect, even though
there were little or no immediate happiness to cheer
them in their course. From this view I most strongly
and confidently dissent ; and I am quite certain that a
very little examination of phenomena will suffice to dis-
prove it. But on this head I need not here enlarge ; as
everything which has been said, or will be said, on
the moral inability of ordinary Christians to tarry on
an interior life through long - continued gloom and
depression, is really said in opposition to any such view.
156. You will remember a criticism which we made
early in the Chapter, (see n. 93, p. 198) on a psychologi-
cal proposition implied by St. Thomas. It is this : that
all those pleasures, which are not obtained by bodily
contact, are enjoyed by means of no closer possession,
than our mere belief in the existence of their object.
Thus the pleasures of vain-glory are fully enjoyed,
through my confident belief that others admire and
value me : nor is it possible to obtain a closer contact
with the pleasurable object, than this mere intellectual
conviction of its existence. On this we remarked, that
St. Thomas certainly makes too broad and general a
statement : for instance Love of Knowledge is not really
and solidly gratified, by our mere belief that we possess
a true and deep philosophy; the philosophy must be
true and deep, or else the Propension (in the case at
least of all higher intellects) is the cause of suffering
instead of gratification.
We are now enabled to add one or two further
instances of the same truth. Thus, consider that peace,
which pious men enjoy, from the harmonious rest of
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 377
their Propensions in God. This great blessing is not
really enjoyed, by our merely believing in its existence.
A self-deceiving fanatic, e. g\, may be very confident
that he possesses this heavenly gift, when he is really a
pivy to the tormenting emotions of pride, envy, and a
hundred others. In order to enjoy this deep repose, our
propensions must be resting harmoniously in the invi-
sible world ; and it will by no means suffice, that we
believe the case to be so. Or take again that happy
temperament which many men possess, and to which I
have alluded in n. 154 (p. 371). We do not enjoy
the pleasures thence accruing, by merely believing that
ours is such a temperament ; unless it really be so, those
pleasures escape our grasp.
It is not clear however that in either of these cases
we have added to the number of those Propensions (see
n. 93, (p. 198), which are physical without being corpo-
real ; of those Propensions, in other words, which require
for their gratification some far closer contact with their
object than mere belief in its existence, while yet that
contact is not of a corporeal kind. It is not clear, I say,
in regard to either of' the two instances just given as
exceptions to St. Thomas' statement, that they enable
us to enlarge our list of those Propensions, which are
thus ' physical ' without being ' corporeal/
The first instance most certainly does not enable us
to do so : for this blessing of inward peace (as we have
abundantly seen) is not obtained by the gratification of
any one special Propension, but by the harmonious
agency of all those which are more powerful and per-
vasive.
In regard to the second instance, there may be greater
doubt. It may be said, and perhaps with truth, that
persons, possessing this happy temperament, do really
receive enjoyment from a separate Propension. We
may assign, perhaps, a Propension, distinct from any
other, which we may call 'Love of Existence;' and
which expresses the susceptibility of pleasure which
such men possess, from the mere fact of living, so
long as there is no special bodily or mental anguish to
378 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
destroy that pleasure. This Propension, if it be justly
assigned, is undoubtedly 'physical;' and yet probably
not 'corporeal.' It is probably not 'corporeal;' for
these men's happy temperament seems attributable to
some far deeper reason than mere bodily health. Yet,
on the other hand, it is undoubtedly a ' physical ' Pro-
pension; for it derives its pleasure, not from the fact
that such men believe themselves to be living, but from
the fact that they are living. One thing however should
be added. Even if this theory of a special Propension
be true, still the principal superiority, in point of earthly
happiness, which these men possess over others, does
not consist in their possessing this special Propension ;
but far more, in the singular degree of enjoyment which
each one of their Propensions receives, from possessing
its appropriate object.
At last then, the exceptions to St. Thomas' state-
ment would appear to be but few ; and the cases are
still fewer, of a physical Propension which is not cor-
poreal. All the Propensions indeed, which we have
called bodily, are undoubtedly 'physical;' and so are all
those which we have called by the general name c Love
of Beauty.' But all these are 'corporeal' also; they
are gratified by the bodily contact of their objects, and
can be fully gratified in no other way. The sound of
the music must reach our bodily ears; — the sight of the
beautiful scenery must reach our bodily eyes; — or our
enjoyment is incomplete. On the other hand, those
which we have called the ' higher Propensions,' are
certainly not ' corporeal ; ' but then neither ( with one
exception) are they ' physical.7 If we look through the
catalogue given in n. 145, we shall find that Propen-
sion so often cited by us, the 'Love of Knowledge,' to be
the only one, which is not most adequately and amply
gratified, by belief in its object's existence. I gratify
Love of Approbation, by firmly believing that I am
approved by God or men ; nor can I derive from that
Propension any fuller gratification. I gratify Personal
4 Amor Concupiscentise,' by firmly believing that my
Divine Friend, or my human, returns my affection ; nor
ON THE ADAPTATION OF OUR NATURE TO VIRTUE. 379
is closer contact possible, between that Propension and
its object. It will be desirable, that you should your-
selves take the trouble of going through the whole list,
and satisfying yourselves that I have spoken truly in
what I have now asserted.
This fact is sufficiently remarkable, to serve as the
basis of a further argument (and it will be the 8th) for
our general proposition ; viz., that human nature was con-
stituted for the practice of virtue. It might have been
thought beforehand, that earthly objects, from being so
much nearer at hand, would be able to come into far
closer contact (if I may so express myself) with our
various Propensions; and that our happiness would
therefore be far greater, from fixing them on visible,
than on invisible, objects. We have found, however, in
regard to all those Propensions which are really of great
importance to happiness, — in regard to all those Pro-
pensions which unite power with pervasiveness, — that
(with one single exception) the case is totally otherwise.
The ambitious, the vain-glorious, nay, even the covetous
man, cannot by possibility come into closer contact with
the object of his desire, than is obtained by belief in its
existence. But this is the precise nature of that con-
tact with Heavenly Objects, which every believer has
within his power. To believe firmly, to realize keenly,
the truths of religion; — this befalls every individual, in
proportion as he advances in virtue. In proportion
therefore as we do so advance, all our higher Propen-
sions receive in a greater degree that very gratification,
which is literally the only kind of gratification permitted
them by their very constitution.
There is one exception, as we have seen; viz., Love
of Knowledge. If it were really true then, that the doc-
trines of Christian Philosophy and Theology are less in
agreement with those necessary truths, which reason
declares, — or with those deep facts of human nature
which experience testifies, — or that they are less concor-
dant and mutually harmonious,- -than the doctrines of
some unchristian philosophy, then undoubtedly the mere
fact of our believing the case to be otherwise would not
380 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
avail us. But I may here assume, that the fact is widely
otherwise ; and since it is widely otherwise, this Pro-
pension also, Love of Knowledge, affords far deeper
gratification to the genuine student of Christian Theo-
logy, than to the student of any human philosophy
which has ever been devised.
The general fact which we have been treating, — I
mean the dependence of our higher Propensions, for
their gratification, merely on our belief m their objects'
existence, — is closely connected (as we shall see in our
theological course) with that great doctrine, Justi-
fication by Faith; a doctrine, on which St. Paul lays
such prominent and such singular stress.
Eight arguments then have been adduced for our
proposition, that human nature is formed for virtue.
In the course of evolving those arguments, various psy-
chological facts have been stated and dwelt upon, which
you will find, I think, of extreme value, in our subse-
quent theological enquiries.
381
SECTION VI.
On the Marks of Moral Degradation in our Nature as
it now exists.
157. The considerations of the last Section lead to
an obvious difficulty. If our nature is so unmistakeably,
indeed so eminently, formed for virtue and perfection,
how is it, that imperfection and forgetfulness of God
are so widely, so awfully, prevalent throughout the
world ? Here indeed we are brought face to face with
that master difficulty, — so saddening to the heart, and
so perplexing to the intellect, — the existence of evil.
In every part (I might almost say in every corner) of
Theology, this difficulty meets us in one or other
development ; and, even in its least formidable shape,
is utterly insoluble. Let us take a review then of this
difficulty, as it here encounters and amazes us.
158. What then are those facts which we learn,
not from Revelation, not from any theological pre-
miss, but from direct and undeniable experience ? On
the one hand all men see, and must see, with the
greatest clearness, the obligation of obeying their
Moral Faculty; many will promptly admit, that their
earthly happiness is best promoted by such obedience ;
every Theist in the world confesses, that his eternal
happiness is simply dependent on it. And yet all
mankind with one consent, it is hardly too much to
say, have agreed to live for this world, instead of living
for duty and for God. We have seen how undeniable
it is, that the heathens possessed the elementary idea of
moral obligation. We have seen (n. 68, p. 141) how
immediate is the inference, that if there be such a thing,
it should be the one guide of life. And yet we see
with equal clearness, that no one of them on record,
remaining a heathen, has ever so much as aimed at
382 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
enthroning moral obligation in its one legitimate place,
the place of supreme and absolute authority. Indeed
had any one of them attempted to do so, I am persuaded
that his renunciation of heathenism, and belief in his
Creator's Existence, must have immediately followed.*
But why dwell on the case of heathen, when the
phenomena of the Christian world are even more
amazing ? Here again I am not at all assuming the
truth of Revelation ; but only the fact, that certain
multitudes of men firmly believe it to be true. Take
the case then of some Catholic country, and what do
we find? The whole nation is firmly convinced, that
this life is but a span ; that an eternity of bliss or
misery depends on their conduct here ; that every
moment therefore is worse than wasted, which is not
devoted to growth in perfection. This is the belief of
all; and what is the practise of the great majority?
It is difficult to know which would be greater, their
horror of a man who should not believe it, or their
disgust at any one, living in the world, who should
practise it. Take the case of any layman, who should
merely exhibit in practice what all his fellow-believers
admit in theory ; who should shew, that to him national
greatness, or intellectual power, or ancient family, or
acquired wealth, is worthless as the seaweed, except so
far as they affect (for good or evil) the advance of
sanctity : — how will he be regarded by the great ma-
jority of his fellow-laymen? on the whole, with wonder
and something like disgust. What is the time, or what
the country, however exclusively Catholic, in which the
immense majority of men have not pursued objects of
this world, — their own temporal support or advance-
ment, or their country's temporal aggrandizement, or the
interests of their political party, — with far greater zeal
and far greater interest, than the sanctification, whether
of themselves or of others ? What is this deep mystery ?
what is this broad gulf which seems, as if by some fated
* The case of the heathen is to be considered at length — by the light
of Theology, Experience, and Reason, — in our theological work, ' de actibus
humanis.'
ON OUR MARKS OF MORAL DEGRADATION. 383
necessity, always and everywhere to exhibit itself,
between what man can do and ought to do — between
this on the one hand, and what they choose to do on
the other hand ?
159. I really do not think that Revelation has in-
creased this difficulty, though certainly it has not lessened
it. I have already viewed it, as it is shewn simply by the
light of experience : that you may see how it stands
viewed by the light of Revelation, I will ask you three
questions. (1.) Theology teaches us, that all men have
the full moral power of arriving at belief in the One
True God, — of consistently avoiding mortal sin, — and,
through that belief and avoidance, of attaining Eternal
Salvation. I ask — is there one single heathen on record,
who, unassisted by Theistic missionaries, has exercised
this moral power which is possessed by all ? (2. ) Theo-
logy tells us, that all Catholics at least have the full
moral power, to make their own perfection the one main
work arid occupation of their lives. Now — in regard
to that constituent part of the Church to which I have
the honour to belong, I mean the laity, — I will ask this
question. I will not ask, how large a proportion of us
make this the chief occupation of our lives, but how
many make it any part? How great a proportion is
there, of laymen living in the world, who give themselves
up, say even once in the week, to such occupations as
the following? I mean — the carefully examining our-
selves, the carefully considering our habitual course of
life, in order to discover our latent faults; the careful
consideration, the diligent asking of advice at the
hand of spiritual guides, as to the best means of cor-
recting those faults ; the further examining ourselves,
as to our diligence in applying such remedies. In
regard to our worldly occupations, we all know what is
meant by steadily applying ourselves to their pursuit;
we know what is meant, by a man really devoting him-
self to a merchant's calling, or a lawyer's, or a poli-
tician's, or a tradesman's. What I am asking is, how
great is the proportion of us laymen, who really devote
ourselves to our Christian calling? who really make
384 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
an occupation of such inward exercises, in the same
sense in which we make an occupation of our worldly
trade or profession ? I say, even in the same sense, how-
ever less in degree ? We all agree absolutely in theory,
that the divine occupation is immeasurably more im-
portant than the secular ; do we not agree almost as
absolutely in practice, by neglecting the former and pur-
suing the latter ? by neglecting that which we hold to be
infinitely important, because of our deep interest in those,
which we know to IDC utterly valueless in comparison ?
My third question shall be this. Theology tells us,
that the whole world has full moral power of being
good ; I ask, why is it that, in Scripture and ascetical
writers, it is assumed, quite as a first principle, that the
world is of course bad ?
160. It would be simply absurd, if I professed to
say one word by way of attempting to solve this diffi-
culty. But there is a relevant psychological fact to
which, on various grounds, I must solicit your very
particular attention. It is this: — our nature is very
strongly biassed in the wrong direction; it is very far
less powerful towards the practice of good, than towards
the reckless and unbridled pursuit of pleasure. In so
great a degree is this true, that simple quiescence,
simple abstinence from effort and struggle towards good,
will by itself absolutely ensure a constant progress
towards what is evil. He who shall abandon himself,
without special pains and effort, to float down the cur-
rent of his Propensions, will most infallibly advance by
steady steps from bad to worse ; and (unless he change
his course) he will assuredly close with a most miserable
end.
This fact is of course no solution of the above diffi-
culty: for the question at once recurs, — since men
know very well that, without special struggle, they get
worse and worse, — and since, by help of prayer and
grace, all have the fullest moral power to put forth such
struggle, — why does so great a majority fail of doing
so? The fact, just stated, fully explains undoubtedly,
why it is that, without special struggle, men fall from
ON OUR MARKS OF MORAL DEGRADATION. 385
bad to worse ; but it does not even tend to explain, why
such struggle is not in fact more universally put forth.
However, for its own sake it deserves our most careful
attention; and it will be found (I think) to throw a
flood of light, on some of the (otherwise) darkest points
of Theology. Let us consider it then with some care,
as an observed psychological fact.
161. The first phenomenon, to which I beg your
attention, is this. Our will itself is far weaker, in its aim
at virtue, than in its aim at pleasure. Let us bring two
different cases into juxtaposition. A devoted and
enterprising officer, wholly destitute however of all pious
principle, goes through a military campaign. His suf-
ferings, both in great matters and small, are severe;
his dangers constant ; he encounters the whole, with
unflinching courage and unbending resolution. What
are his sustaining influences? Such as these: — the
desire of his countrymen's applause; — ardent attach-
ment to his country; — desire of his own esteem; — and
other similar motives. He undergoes perhaps au
excruciating operation, without a groan : why ? because
it would lower his self-respect, it would keenly wound
his pride, if he, a brave soldier, could be overcome by
pain. In the same army serves a good and zealous mis-
sionary priest; enduring the same sufferings; exposed
to the same dangers ; called to constant and most trying
exertion, for the service of God : and he also perhaps
undergoes a severe operation. Now I ask, what is this
priest's experience? What is his sustaining power? It
is prayer. Let him give up the practice of prayer,
how great will be his power of working for God?
Literally, or almost literally, none at all. By help of
prayer no doubt, his will may be far more firmly fixed
on God, than any worldly man's on his worldly objects :
but let him cease from prayer, he almost ceases from
God's service. Nay I will ask this : — have any of us
the moral power, of so much as enduring, without re-
sentment, one passing insult from a companion, — unless
we address ourselves to God and call prayer to our aid ?
Now it is sometimes assigned, as a reason for this
c c
386 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
contrast, that visible objects so press upon our atten-
tion; and that the invisible has (from its very nature)
so much less power of influencing the will. But you
will find, on consideration, that both soldier and priest
have to overcome the visible by thinking of the invisible.
The frequent perils, the constant privations, the agoniz-
ing pain, all these surely are visible and palpable in-
ducements to cowardice ; they are so in one case no
less than in the other. On the other hand, on what
does the soldier fix his thoughts, to support him under
these most visible trials ? His distant country ; — •
applause of his absent countrymen ; — sense of his own
dignity; — how can these be called visible objects? The
godless soldier, I repeat, no less than the pious priest,
contends against the visible by thinking of the invisible.
Nor again can it be said, that the soldier is more
firmly convinced than the priest, as to the reality and
value of his objects. Which of these two, do you sup-
pose, is the firmer? A soldier's conviction that France
or England deserves his love; — that his countrymen's
applause will crown his efforts ; — that his own dignity is
great and elevated; — or the priest's firm faith, that God
is an Object worthy of being loved and that God's
approbation is to be most dearly prized.
Another explanation is sometimes attempted, by
those who are unwilling to believe the doctrine for
which I am arguing. They say, that Concupiscence is
an adversary of tremendous power; and that in pursuing
virtue a man is exposed constantly to those powerful
assaults of Concupiscence, from which, in pursuing
worldly objects, he is altogether free. We have not
yet considered precisely the meaning of this word ' Con-
cupiscence ;' but we may say generally, that it signifies
the assemblage of those solicitations, which are put forth
by the Sensitive Appetite, against the course of virtue
and the service of God. And this being Concupiscence,
I maintain that the attempt to explain, by means of Con-
cupiscence, those phenomena to which I have directed
your attention, is to the full as untenable, as are those
other explanations which we have already refuted.
ON OUR MARKS OF MORAL DEGRADATION. 387
Those who dwell so much on the power of Con-
cupiscence, seem most strangely to forget the great
power, exercised by the Sensitive Appetite, in behalf of
virtue. To give merely one instance of what I mean ; —
they seem to forget altogether the sweetness of sensible
devotion (see n. 130, p. 257). To fix our ideas, I will
direct your attention to one phenomenon, which is
common enough in the interior life. We must all have
experienced at times something of this kind. We are
perhaps in a state of happy recollectedness ; dwelling
on the thought of that Love which is entertained to-
wards us, by our Creator, our Redeemer, our Heavenly
Mother. We may even reflect upon our state ; we
may say to ours.elves, ' How incomparably sweeter
and happier are these true pleasures, than are the
polluted waters of pride and vainglory, at which we
so often slake our thirst.' And yet we feel, at the very
same time, that (by a kind of spiritual gravitation) we
are ever tendings/Tom the former to the latter ; tending
from that, which we practically feel to be happier ; and
tending to that, which we practically feel as less happy.
The fact then of this tendency cannot possibly be attri-
buted to the agency of our Sensitive Appetite. Our
Sensitive Appetite is now not only not opposed to virtue,
but soliciting most powerfully in its favour; and yet
our Will is ever tending downwards. We feel most
intimately, that, without prolonged and sustained effort,
the dreaded descent is practically inevitable.
162. Such then is the present constitution of our
nature. Our Will, in pursuit of- pleasure, is firm,
stable, consistent ; in pursuit of virtue (except so far
as we bring prayer to its support) is most weak, most
wayward and capricious. On its weakness we have
sufficiently enlarged ; it was the first phenomenon, to
which I asked your attention. But consider also a
second phenomenon, its waywardness and capricious-
ness. What is our frequent experience ? ouch as
this. ' Can I be the same man, who but yesterday had
' so clear a vision of divine things ? who made such
4 successful resistance to temptation ? who elicited such
388 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
' noble acts ? To-day, on the contrary, I seem moved
' by every breath of emotion; — enslaved to the most
' ignoble tendencies ; — helpless and resourceless in the
4 direction of virtue.7
Perhaps indeed, if we were able to examine care-
fully all the facts, we should ordinarily find, that this
contrast depends on the greater or less degree of com-
pleteness, with which we have exercised ourselves
through the day in the spirit of prayer; the greater or
less degree of humility and self-distrust, with which
we have placed our sanctification in our Creator's
hands. There cannot be a more vital doctrine than
this ; — the intimate connection of our growth in sanctity,
with our distrust in ourselves, our confidence in God,
our constancy in implicit prayer : and it will occupy a
most prominent place in our theological course. But
this doctrine does not essentially affect the fact, to
which I am now directing your attention ; for as a matter
of experience, how vast is the difference between one
day and another, as to mj facility of giving myself is
prayer. We seem never to acquire a stable habit of
prayer ; any permanent or reliable facility for its per-
formance. To-day it is quite easy to me, that I repose
my whole trust in God : while to-morrow the preserving
a spirit of prayer through the day, is like rolling a
stone up a hill ; such constant struggle and effort does
it require.
In reply to this whole statement, (1) of the will's
weakness, and (2) its capriciousness, in the practice of
good, — an objection of the following kind has been
sometimes put forth ; though surely it is a most hasty
and ill-considered objection. It has been said, that the
will may be naturally indeed very weak towards good;
but that when raised to the sz//?er-natural order it is
strong and vigorous. It is difficult to imagine what
can be meant by such an allegation. Look at the
missionary priest, who has served us for our illustra-
tion ; the priest who accompanies the army on a
military campaign. His will is most certainly raised
to the supernatural order, if there be any man in the
ON OUK MARKS OF MORAL DEGRADATION. 389
world whose will is thus raised. Yet it was in regard
to him that we decided, as of a thing palpable to
experience, that without prayer his strength for good
is as nothing.
163. The third and last phenomenon which I will
adduce, as illustrating the present proclivity of our
nature to evil, regards, not the Will but the Sensitive
Appetite. The Propension of the Flesh, I mean that
which tempts us against the Sixth Commandment, differs
in various most important respects from all others. A
very little consideration will sufficiently shew this.
Suppose it is a fast-day : who ever heard of the notion
that the mere sight of meat, — much more that the mere
reading about it, — is so proximate an occasion of sin
as to be in itself mortal? Or (to avoid objections which
may be raised against this particular instance) suppose
I were a Cistercian, and meat were always unlawful to
me : — who in such a case ever heard of a notion like
that above imagined ? Yet we all know the frightful
peril involved, in allowing ourselves to gaze on evil
objects, or even to read about them, in matters of
impurity. Or let me suppose the case of a Christian,
who was once in the habit of stealing, and by help of
his thefts leading a comfortable and luxurious life ; but
who has now reformed, and belongs to some strict order.
Who ever heard that the contemplation of wealth, — the
mere looking at fine equipages, grand appointments,
handsome houses, — produces the almost inevitable
effect, of reviving the passion ' delectatio' in regard to
the old mortal sin ? Yet in the matter of impurity such
would be the case. Nay, take that very Propension,
which of all is far the nearest to the one which we are
considering; — take the desire of revenge, as it exists in
an Italian or Spaniard. To a revengeful man, even when
reformed, the sight of his enemy might doubtless be a
great occasion of sin : but surely no one will deny, that
such a man may read the account of murders in
general, and may enter too into every detail and par-
ticular of some individual murder where the parties
concerned are quite unknown to him, — without so
390 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
much as a passing temptation to his old sin. How
totally opposite is our nature, in regard to impurity !
Indeed spiritual writers universally recognize this fact.
As one instance of such recognition, they will never
permit any such detailed consideration of past sins
under this head, as they most earnestly recommend in
regard to all other sins of whatever kind.
164. From this review, I cannot hut draw an infer-
ence. Reason shews most clearly, that our nature was
formed for virtue ; hut I think Eeason alone would also
make the opinion extremely probable, that this same
nature of ours has received some wrench, some jar,
some disorganization ; that it does not in fact wear that
very shape, those very proportions, in which it was
originally formed. The singular weakness and capri-
ciousness of our Will in the direction of virtue, would
by itself strongly recommend this opinion to our ac-
ceptance. But the third phenomenon above mentioned
seems to give even stronger grounds for its support:
for this particular Pro pension seems to have received
quite a morbid intensity ; an intensity greatly exceed-
ing what we may suppose to have been God's original
design.
And if we may be allowed for a moment to enter
on the ground of Revelation, it is difficult not to con-
nect all this with the dogma of Original Sin. The
third phenomenon above stated is indeed most remark-
able, in connection with that dogma. It is through
this particular Propension, that Original Sin is propa-
gated. Our Nature then bears upon it, as we may say,
the stamp, of that ignominy and degradation in which
we are involved by coming into the world; in that the
Propension, whereby we come into the world, has been
thus morbidly exaggerated and perverted.
We shall see however in our theological course,
that there is no question, on which theologians go into
a greater variety of opinions, than on this. That our
Nature has in itself suffered at all from the Fall; — that
we have lost anything except certain preternatural gifts:
— this is very far indeed from an universally admitted
ON OUR MARKS OF MORAL DEGRADATION. 391
proposition. And those theologians, who think that it
has suffered, differ from each other in no slight degree,
as to the particulars in which that suffering exists.
The psychological phenomena then, to which I have
now drawn your attention, will, at a later period, give
us very considerable help, in our theological treatment
of this question.
392
SECTION VII.
On Certain Philosophical Terms.
165. This last Section of the present Chapter will
consist of two parts, totally distinct from each other.
It is important that you should understand the meaning
of certain philosophical terms, which occur in ordinary
theological .works ; and this seems the most convenient
place for explaining them.
The first of these terms will be the word 4 Nature;'
a term which we have already frequently used, although
we have not yet specially considered its precise meaning.
No one can say this is an insignificant word, in refer-
ence to our own purpose ; since the very name we give
to our present course is, c on Nature and Grace.' In-
deed to attempt any really complete discussion of this
word, would bring us across some of the most difficult
philosophical questions which exist. But perhaps we
may find it possible to steer clear of such questions,
while yet giving a practical explanation of the term,
which will be sufficient for our own exigencies.
It is conceivable that God might have so made me,
that there should be no kind of regularity or con-
formity, in the processes and operations of my mind
and my body. To-day I can hardly with great effort
crawl along the ground ; to-morrow (without any in-
trinsic change in my body) I might find myself flying
in the air. To-day the fire warms my hands, to-
morrow it nips and freezes them. To-day I derive
pleasure from the thought of being liked and approved ;
to-morrow it gives me pleasure on the contrary, to
think that I am hated both by God and man. Had
God so made me, I should have had no 'nature;' to
say that I have a ' nature,' implies the contradictory to
ON CERTAIN PHILOSOPHICAL TERMS. 393
any such supposition as that just made. So far then, it
might appear that my ' nature ' means simply, 4 the
assemblage of those fixed laws, according to which God
appoints, that the various operations and modifications
of my mind and body shall proceed.'
But a little consideration will shew, that as yet our
notion is far from sufficient. To fix our ideas, — take
the case of my warming my hands at the fire. Plainly
it is no sufficient account of the matter to say, that
every time I put my hands to the fire, God, by a kind
of compact, confers on them the sensation of warmth.
This would be to deny the agency of second causes
altogether ; and such indeed is the opinion of those,
who are called in philosophy the Occasionalists. But
no Catholic maintains anything like this. No : God has
given to the fire, once for all, a permanent quality; and
He has given to my hand, once for all, & permanent qua-
lity; in virtue of which two qualities, the warmth ensues.
No doubt God, Who gave this permanent quality, may
when He pleases suspend its operation ; no doubt He
must co-operate every moment, when it is called forth
into action : still He did, once for all, give that perma-
nent quality; and His subsequent interference in the
matter has merely been, to preserve what He has once
given. I am not professing to prove these various
statements ; I am assuming them from ordinary philo-
sophical treatises. My purpose is merely, by means
of them, to explain this term ' nature.' And we are
now much nearer at least to our desired point ; for my
'nature' would seem to be, 'the assemblage of those
permanent qualities, which God has made intrinsic to
me.' It is in virtue of my nature on the one hand,
and the fire's nature on the other, that my hand grows
warm.
You will object; — 'an acquired habit is a perma-
nent quality, intrinsic to me.' This objection will
make clearer my original statement. Certainly an
acquired habit is a permanent quality intrinsic to me ;
and how close is the connexion between habit and
nature, is universally proverbial. But an acquired
394 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
habit is not a quality which God has made intrinsic to
me : it is not God, but my own acts, which have been
the immediate cause of this quality. My 4 nature' then,
is the assemblage of those qualities which God has
made intrinsic to me, without any co-operation of
mine ; but my acquired habits are permanent qualities,
which have become intrinsic to me through my own
acts. On the other hand, my power of engendering
habits by means of acts, — this power is part of my
1 nature :' God Himself has implanted this power ; it
is a permanent quality, which God has made intrinsic
to my soul.
Let us examine this interpretation of the word
' nature,' which I believe to be the true one, by
bringing it to bear on various recognized theological
propositions. The following statement will include
four such propositions. (1) All Catholic theologians
agree, that Adam was preserved from Concupiscence,
not by any part of his ' nature,' but by a series of
Divine Acts supplementary to that nature. (2) All
agree, that he lost no part of his nature by the fall ;
neither (3) did he receive (as the Calvinists suppose)
some evil addition to his nature. (4) Some Catholic
theologians however are of opinion, and I follow them,
that his nature received some wrench or disorganiza-
tion, making it far weaker towards good.
Now to interpret these four propositions, according
to our explanation of the term 'nature.7 (1) How
was Adam saved from Concupiscence ? By this, that
on every single occasion when God saw that temptation
would arise, He interposed an act of His Power, to
suppress the otherwise inevitable emotion. (2) But
suppose God had endowed Adam's soul with some
intrinsic permanent quality, in virtue of which tempta-
tion could not assail him, — then that very thing would
have been true, which theologians say is not true ;
viz. that Adam, by sinning, lost an integral part of his
nature. (3) On the other hand, had Adam on his fall
received from God some intrinsic permanent quality,
which he did not before possess, and in virtue of which
ON CERTAIN PHILOSOPHICAL TERMS. 395
evil had a power over him such as it had not in the
state of Innocence, — then Calvin's statement would
have been true, that there was an evil addition to his
nature. But (4) a different supposition is conceivable:
viz. that those intrinsic permanent qualities, which
assist him in pursuing good, should be weakened ; and
that those which assist him in departing from God's
service, should be strengthened : that his intrinsic
power e.g. of pursuing 'bonum honestum' should be
made less ; and his intrinsic power of seeking 4 delect-
abile,' without reference to l honestum,' should be made
greater. Those theologians, who should adopt this
supposition, would say, that the Fall, without making
any evil addition to his nature, yet threw it into a
state of moral disadvantage and disorganization.
A further objection may be made to this whole
statement, which will again make my meaning clearer.
It may be said, that, on this view, Habitual Grace
would be part of my * nature ;' for surely it is a per-
manent quality, implanted by God in my soul. I reply,
that Habitual Grace is no doubt a permanent quality,
made by God inherent in my soul ; but not therefore
intrinsic to it. Let me explain this difference by one
or two illustrations.
It is no permanent quality, intrinsic to my body,
that it shall be warm : yet there is a permanent quality
intrinsic to my body, and another intrinsic to the fire,
by virtue of which two qualities, my body, when in
contact with the fire, becomes warm. Now suppose
God, without in any way altering the intrinsic con-
stitution of my body, yet decreed that the effect of the
fire should follow me about wherever I went. Well —
I should enjoy a permanent gift of warmth ; that
warmth would be inherent in my body ; yet it would
not be intrinsic to it. Take any moment, when I am
thus comfortably warm. My body does not possess
any quality, which is the full cause of that warmth.
That warmth is partially caused, of course, by an
intrinsic quality of my body ; viz. its capability of
receiving warmth, from fire or other hot substance:
396 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
but another cause also concurs ; viz. the power of
God, miraculously supplying the effect of fire in its
absence.
Or take another case. Balaam's ass once spoke.
This speech was not in any sense due to any intrinsic
quality ; there was nothing in the beast's organs, which
was even a partial cause of speech ; but God simply
used them, as His instrument for a miraculous opera-
tion. He might have repeated this miracle through
the animal's whole life ; in other words, given him a
permanent gift of speech. Still, if he effected no
intrinsic change in the animal's organs, — if those
organs remained precisely in the same state with those
of other asses, — then this one would no more possess
the intrinsic quality of speech, than they do. In any
instant, when this ass was speaking, the cause of that
speech would not be any intrinsic quality whatever
appertaining to his organs, but simply God's mira-
culous operation.
There is a controversy agitated in the Catholic
schools, as to the sacraments, which will afford us
another apposite illustration of our point. We con-
sidered just now, you remember, two alternatives as
conceivable, in regard to the warmth which I derive
from putting my hands to the fire. First it might
merely have been, that by a kind of pact God made
my hands warm, as often as I did so ; the other that
He might have given (as in fact He has) an intrinsic
permanent quality, both to fire and hands. Now take
the case of an infant e. g. being baptized, and so re-
ceiving Habitual Grace. Here, in like manner, two
alternatives are imaginable ; and each is defended by
various theologians. It may be true, that God has
promised that, by a kind of pact, He will always infuse
Habitual Grace, whenever Baptism is duly adminis-
tered to a child. But it may also be true, that the
sacrament, duly administered, possesses a certain in-
trinsic quality, which of its own nature infuses Habitual
Grace. Those who hold this, express it by saying,
4 sacramenta physice conferunt gratiam ;' intimating
ON CERTAIN PHILOSOPHICAL TERMS. 397
very plainly the close connection between the word
1 nature' and the idea i intrinsic quality.'
Thus it is (I conceive) that we may apprehend,
what Revelation calls on us to hold, in regard to
Habitual Grace. It is a permanent, an inherent,
quality ; but it is not intrinsic. The constitution of
the soul is not changed in any one respect, by the
infusion of Habitual Grace ; but God miraculously
supports the two in union.
It is readily imaginable, as we have seen, that God,
without in any way altering the intrinsic constitution
of my body, yet might miraculously preserve the
created quality of warmth, in constant union with it :
and on such an hypothesis, warmth would be inherent,
but not intrinsic. Just so, we believe, on the authority
of Revelation, that God, without in any way altering
the intrinsic constitution of my soul, miraculously
preserves the created quality of Habitual Grace, in
constant union with it. Habitual Grace therefore is
inherent in the justified man's soul, but not intrinsic.
I need hardly add, that this is to be received simply
on faith; and that we have no kind of definite idea
corresponding to our words* We have already seen,
that on the nature of the soul itself, as distinct from its
operations, we are absolutely and blindly ignorant ; and
we can of course have no clearer notion of a miracle
wrought in the soul, than we have of the soul itself.
166. Hitherto we have spoken of 'my own indi-
vidual nature.' We are now to rise into the idea, of
4 one nature common to me with many others.' You
* The reader may here be inclined to retort, that I have spoken of it
(p. 190) ' as one of the very worst habits which can possibly come upon a
philosophical student,' that he should 'use words without precise cor-
responding ideas.' But I have said ' unconsciously use words without,' &c.
Let any one ponder on man's deep ignorance, and on his incapacity of
apprehending the Invisible world, and he must readily admit, that we often
have to use words, which express no corresponding ideas of our own;
though (as we firmly believe) they do express unknown realities. But it is
all-important, that when we thus use words, we should not do it * uncon-
scioiisly? The whole subject here referred to — a most deeply important
one,— is most appropriately treated in the theological treatise, c de Deo
Uno et Trino.'
398 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
and I have the same nature ; a rabbit and I have
different natures : what is meant by this ?
Some scholastics seem to have held, that there is
some real thing, called human nature, actually existing
in all men, and handed down from father to son. This
strange notion is now (I believe) universally exploded;
but it has been succeeded by another even more strange.
Many modern speculators maintain, that the distinction
of species is purely an effect of human reason. ' I con-
' veniently classify men under one head, and rabbits
4 under another ; just as, with equal propriety, I might
4 conveniently classify white animals under one head,
4 and black under another. God has no more made
4 any true distinction between men and rabbits, than
4 between white animals and black.' This is really so
absurd, that it would be an insult to common sense if
I attempted its refutation. But the question recurs : —
what is precisely meant, when I say that you and I are
of the same nature ; a rabbit and I are of different
natures? I suppose the true answer is somewhat as
follows. (1.) Compare the permanent qualities made
by God intrinsic to you, with those made by Him
intrinsic to me : there is quite immeasurably more
similarity than discrepancy. Compare those given to
me with those given to a rabbit, and the reverse holds.
(2.) But I have a further conviction than this. I have
a conviction that, by means of experimenting on myself,
I may discover an indefinite number of further qualities,
which have been hitherto unsuspected. And I have
also a conviction that, if I find them in myself, I have
the fullest reason for holding that they exist also in
you ; though within certain limits of possible variation.
I recognize in myself, Love of Approbation, Love of
Justice, Love of Acquisition : and I infer, without
doubt, that my fellow-men have the same ; though they
may have them in very different proportions, whether
as compared with me, or as compared with each other.
If you ask, what are the limits within which variation
is possible, you are treading on those most difficult
ON CERTAIN PHILOSOPHICAL TERMS. 399
philosophical questions, from which I desire to keep
clear. Nor am I professing at all to consider the
grounds of my conviction, that you and I are of the
same nature, a .rabbit and I of different natures ; be-
cause I am not considering the grounds, but the mean-
ing, of that statement. The broad fact is plainly as
follows.
God has created, not merely individuals, but certain
gre&tfa?nilies of sentient beings. Each family, more-
over, is so united, that (1) all its members agree with
each other in possessing an indefinite number of per-
manent intrinsic qualities, directly implanted by God ;
and that (2) there is no such quality given by God to
any one, which has not its counterpart in every other.
In saying this, we save of course individual exceptions
— monsters and the like — and speak generally and
broadly. Revelation adds to the completeness of this
view, by declaring that each species or family comes
from a common pair of parents. This fact however is
by no means necessary to the idea itself of a common
nature ; as a moment's consideration will shew.
167. There is another string of philosophical terms,
with which this will be a convenient opportunity of
making you acquainted. I mean those which relate to
Aristotle's classification of mental phenomena, as taken
from him by the great scholastic writers. No one, I
imagine, now adheres to this strange theory ; but it is
necessary that we should understand those terms which
express it, because of their frequent occurrence in
theological works. The following then is some most
general and superficial account of the Aristotelic
theory.
Ask Aristotle or St. Thomas, how we obtain a
knowledge of the external world, and they will answer
as follows. c From every external thing there flies off
4 a ' Species Sensibilis ;' bearing to the thing itself the
' same kind of relation, which the impression of a seal
' bears to its original. Flies off whither ? It takes its
' residence, in that faculty of ours which we call the
' ' Phantasia.' No sooner does the ' Species Sensibilis '
400 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
4 thus arrive, than the ' Intellectus Agens ' is at work,
4 transmuting it into a 4 Species Intelligibilis ;' and this
* c Species' resides in the ' Intellectus Possibilis.' All
' emotions arise from the c Species Sensibilis ;' but all
' volitions from the ' Species Intelligibilis.' Hence the
' 4 Phantasia ' bears the same relation to the Sensitive
* Appetite, which the ' Intellectus Possibilis ' bears to
4 the Will. The ' Phantasia,' and Sensitive Appetite
' make up the lower part of the soul, which is common
to us with the brutes : the 4 Intellectus ' and ' Voluntas '
make up the higher part ; which is peculiar to man-
kind, among the visible creation. Each part of the
soul then has its own mode of aiming at an object;
or its own ' Appetitus :' the lower part, the 4 Appe-
titus Sensitivus ;' the higher part, the ' Appetitus
Kationalis,' or ' Appetitus Intellect! vus,' or 4 Voluntas.'
6 These three latter expressions all stand for precisely
' the same idea,
' Both the 4 Appetitus Sensitivus,' and * Kationalis,'
' exert themselves in the conscious acts of a sentient
4 being. Thus, man aims by * Appetitus Eationalis' at a
' certain * bonum honestum ;' and a cow, by 6 Appetitus
4 Sensitivus,' longs for some nice fresh grass, which is
4 just out of her reach. But there may be a tendency,
4 which does not shew itself in any conscious act, of
4 which even an inanimate object may be capable : this
4 is called ' Appetitus Innatus.' So a stone has an
4 4 Appetitus Innatus,' drawing it towards the earth.'
Such is the philosophical theory, which underlies an
immense number of theological propositions, put forth
by scholastic writers. You will wish to know, how
these propositions may become intelligible to us; how
we may translate them (as it were) from the Aristotelic
philosophy into our own. Two principal rules will
perhaps suffice.
(1.) We drop altogether the distinction between
4 Phantasia ' and 4 Intellectus,' or 4 Species Sensibilis '
and 4 Species Intelligibilis.' Every operation, attributed
by Scholastics to the 4 Phantasia,' we ascribe to the
* Intellect.'
ON CERTAIN PHILOSOPHICAL TERMS.
401
(2.) We drop altogether the 'Intellectus Agens;'
and recognize no c Intellect/ except that called by scho-
lastics the t Intellectus Possibilis.'
You will find that this Aristotelic philosophy is very
far more prominent and pervasive in St. Thomas'
Theology, than in that of the great post-Tridentine
scholastics; which alone would suffice to make the
latter far easier reading.
D
CHAPTER III.
ON SELF-CHARITY.
168. You are no doubt aware generally, of the great
controversy carried on (some two centuries ago) between
Bossuet and Fenelon, on man's desire of happiness. It
is difficult to imagine opinions more fundamentally
opposed.
Bossuet maintained, that every single act, done by
every single man, from the dawn of reason, is directed to
one, and one only, absolute end ; — his own happiness :
that his one animating motive, in everything, great or
small, which he does or wishes, is simply and exclusively
the desire of felicity. Fenelon on the contrary held,
that those who have reached the highest state of perfec-
tion are quite indifferent to their own felicity for its
own sake; that they desire Heavenly Bliss for them-
selves, in no other sense than that in which they desire
it for others ; and that the one reason of this desire, is
their wish that God's Glory may be the more promoted.
This doctrine was most deservedly condemned by the
Holy See, as c temerarious, scandalous, evil-sounding,
offensive to pious ears, pernicious in practice, and
erroneous.7 But I confess, that Bossuet's extremely
opposite thesis seems to me quite as plainly and un-
deniably mistaken as Fenelon's.* It will be our busi-
ness therefore, in considering both these extremes, to
draw out (as best we may) a philosophical statement,
which shall be consistent with itself, with Reason, and
* I mean, of course, so far as reason is concerned. The Church has
actually condemned Fenelon ; and for believing therefore his system
erroneous, we have grounds far stronger than an individual's reason.
ON SELF-CHARITY. 403
with the observed facts of human nature. It will be
part of our theological course to shew, that the state-
ment, thus recommended by Reason, is also the one
which consistently harmonizes the various utterances of
Revelation.
It was impossible to treat this subject in either of
the preceding Chapters, for this reason. The first
Chapter was wholly metaphysical ; the second, wholly
psychological : but our present question necessitates
consideration both of Metaphysics and Psychology. .
Bossuet's statement is purely psychological, and so
therefore must our answer to it be. Pension's state-
ment is mainly metaphysical; viz., that the not desiring
felicity for its own sake, is ' objectively preferable' (see
n. 57, p. 124T) to the desiring it. Just then as our
answer to Bossuet must be solely psychological, our
answer to Feuelon must be mainly metaphysical : and
the chapter will therefore naturally divide itself into two
Sections, directed severally against the two respective
writers whom I am opposing.
Of these two Sections, the psychological must come
first. Bossuet maintains, that we are physically neces-
sitated to aim at felicity in every act. This allegation
directly crosses our path, and must be disposed of in
the first instance. If we are physically necessitated thus
to seek felicity, it would be absurd enough to enquire,
how far we are morally obliged to do so. It would be
like asking, how far we are under the moral obligation
of keeping our bodies on the earth, instead of flying up
with them into the moon.
404
SECTION I.
On Man's Desire of Felicity.
169. We are now then to consider Bossuet's thesis:
viz. that the desire of our own happiness is, by the ne-
cessity of our nature, our one motive of action. In
connection with which statement, let us consider such
familiar facts of everyday life as the following. An un-
happy man groans, day after day, hour after hour,
under the weight of some evil habit, from which he
will not shake himself free. He feels most deeply, to
his very heart of hearts, that his whole happiness, here
and hereafter, depends on his emancipation: he never
feels this more deeply, than at the very moments when
he does give way. What becomes then of Bossuet's
thesis ? Certainly this wretched sufferer would be de-
lighted beyond words, if he could really believe any
such thesis ; if he could really believe that there is no
necessity for him even to struggle or exert himself, but
that his firm conviction of Eternal Life being at stake,
will necessitate his pursuing the course of virtue.
Take another instance. Is there one of you here,
who has the slightest doubt, that to lead a life of fault-
less perfection, is the one thing which would most con-
duce to your future happiness? Do we find ourselves
on that account leading such a life ? And that indeed
quite as a matter of course; — without any kind of
struggle ; — by physical necessity ?
It is really difficult to imagine, what can have led
any sane person to put forth a theory, which stands
out in such broad contradiction with the most familiar
and obvious facts. You may well doubt indeed, whether
so great a man as Bossuet can possibly have done so ;
but such a doubt would be dissipated, in proportion as
ON MAN'S DESIRE OF FELICITY. 405
you should study his writings on the Quietist contro-
versy. It is impossible of course to put before you, in
any brief compass, the cumulative evidence which would
thus be obtained; but I will adduce two quotations,
which can leave no room for question. The first shall
be from his work c Schola in tuto ;' in which, more than
in any other, he aims at expressing his doctrine with
scholastic precision. He prefaces this work, with a
formal statement of the various propositions which he
undertakes to prove; and the sixth of these proposi-
tions stands thus :
" Neque quisquam diffitetur, quin omnes homines, quidquid
aqunt, quidquid volunt, quidquid cogitant, quod ad vitam humaiiam
alicujus moment! esse videatur, id omne ad J3eatitudinem explicite,
vel implicite, sive virtualiter, referant. Citius animam auferas,
quam ut cuiquam liomini hanc mentem, Imnc sensum, hanc animi
prseparationem eripias."
The only possible doubt which can exist, as to his
meaning in this proposition, will turn on the word
4 Beatitude ;' it may be questioned whether he can really
take it as simply synonymous with 4 happiness.7 There
is no such doubt however about the French word
4 heureux;' and our second quotation therefore shall be
from one of Bossuet's French works :
" C'est non seulement qu'on veut etre heureux, mais encore
qu'on ne veut que cela, et qu'on veut tout pour cela."
This at least is plain enough. And he adds, further
on in the page :
" II demeure toujours veritable qu'on ne peut se desin-
teresser, jusqu'au point de perdre, dans un seul acte quel qu'il soit,
la volonte d'etre heureux ; pour laquelle on veut toutes choses." *
He is claiming throughout undoubtedly the authority
of St. Augustin as on his side; but how far he does
so truly and legitimately, is a separate question which
we are not here considering. What I am here observ-
ing, as to the above quotations, is this ; that throughout
he translates the word ' beatus ' by the French word
* Reponse a Quatre Lettres, n. 9.
406 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
' heureux.' His statement then is most clear and intelli-
gible ; viz., that we desire nothing whatever as an absolute
end (see n. 110, p. 233), except only happiness. 'All
' other ends,' according to Bossuet, 4 are relative and
' intermediate ; the one absolute end is felicity. We
c can never aim at virtue, because of its virtuousness ;
' we can never aim at pleasure, because of its imme-
6 diate pleasurableness ; we desire neither virtue nor
1 present pleasure, except merely as means to perma-
4 nent felicity. Look at that miserable man, enmeshed
4 in a sinful habit, who consents to temptation, under
4 a deep sense of the injury which he inflicts on his
1 own happiness by doing so ; his one motive for
' sinning, is the desire of that happiness, in regard
to which he knows and most deeply feels, that his sin
will impair it. Look at that ecclesiastical student,
who commits a deliberate imperfection, while distinctly
remembering that his eternal happiness would be
better promoted by refraining from such commission;
it is his desire of happiness, which influences him,
knowingly and consciously to do that, which will
infallibly lessen such happiness.' Argument seems
almost impertinent, when directed against a thesis, so
manifestly, so monstrously, at variance with facts. Yet
it will be better to examine it, somewhat more accurately
than we have yet done.
170. There are three different senses, in which this
Felicity- thesis may imaginably be maintained. First it
may be asserted, that we always act at every moment
in that direction, which we speculatively believe most
conducive to our permanent and ultimate happiness.
According to this version of the thesis, the avaricious
man speculatively believes the acquisition of money to
be his greatest possible happiness; and the sensualist
speculatively believes, that his sum of happiness, here
and hereafter, will on the whole be augmented, by com-
mitting the various sins forbidden by the Sixth Com-
mandment. Vasquez replies very obviously, that,
according to this version, every sinner must be a heretic;
nay, we may add, every one who commits deliberate
ON MAN'S DESIRE OF FELICITY. 407
•
imperfection must be a heretic. Nor need it be added,
that Experience is as diametrically opposed to this
version as is sound Theology. In this most extrava-
gant of all shapes, no one of course ever dreamed of
advocating the thesis which we are opposing. What
ever Bossuet meant, — and it is difficult to imagine
what he did mean, — he never can have intended this.
(2.) A more modified version of the Felicity-thesis
may run as follows. 'A speculative opinion is most
4 different from a practical impression. We by no
* means maintain, that man always pursues, what he
1 speculatively believes most conducive to his happiness ;
4 but what at the moment practically impresses him as
* thus conducive. When temptation assails him, the
4 tempting object, from its proximity and from the
4 violence of his present emotion, practically over-
4 shadows that, which, though immeasurably more in-
4 tense, yet is future and distant. At the moment of
* sinning then, his practical impression is, that he thus
•* obtains his greatest happiness/
Yet a moment's consideration will shew, that this
allegation is no less undeniably opposed to Experience,
than is the former. Is it not the commonest phenomenon
in the world, as we lately stated, that men yield to
temptation, with a keen feeling of remorse, and with
the strongest practical impression that they are thus
injuring their real happiness? When they gratify e.g.
the Propension of the Flesh, while at the same moment
their Propension of Duty and Self-charity inflict on
them a severe pang, — I say it is their practical im-
pression at the very moment of sinning, and not merely
their speculative opinion, that they are sacrificing per-
manent happiness to present pleasure.
Experience then is most violently opposed to this
second version of the Felicity-thesis. But sound
Theology is no less opposed to it; for it utterly over-
throws the doctrine of Liberty. At this moment I am
assailed by some temptation ; and my practical impres-
sion either is, or is not, that I shall promote my per-
manent happiness by succumbing. If it is not, then
408 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
(according to this thesis) I have no power to succumb ;
if it is, then I have no power to abstain from succumb-
ing. You will reply perhaps, that I may set to work
to change this practical impression ; but such a reply
merely puts the difficulty one step further back. Is it
my practical impression, that I shall promote my per-
manent happiness by thus setting to work? If so,
according to Bossuet, I am necessitated thus to act. Is
the reverse my practical impression? then, according to
Bossuet, I am unable so to act.
Now the doctrine of Liberty is established by
Reason, as well as declared by Revelation. We see
therefore that Revelation, Reason, Experience, stand
all in the most direct and undeniable opposition to this
Felicity-thesis, even in the most plausible shape which
it can possibly assume.
(3.) At last perhaps nothing more is meant, than
that man always pursues present pleasure. If by this
it be meant that this is always his one end, we have
already refuted the statement by anticipation: for we
have shewn that man can pursue future pleasure, no
less than present ; and that he can also pursue ' bonum
honestuni.' (See nn. 118, 9, p. 243, 5.) According to
this version of the thesis indeed, no single virtuous act
is physically possible. (See n. 56, p. 123.)
If on the other hand it be only intended to say, that
at every moment some part of the Will's energy is
directed to present pleasure, — I am inclined indeed to
regard so universal a statement as mistaken (see n. 118,
p. 245); but the whole matter is of the smallest pos-
sible importance. There can be no doubt that, in the
vast majority of instants through the day, the will is
aiming in some degree at present pleasure; that plea-
sure is one of the various ends, which actuate and
impel it: and if any one thinks that this is the case
universally and without exception, I am not aware of
any kind of evil result, which would follow from such
an opinion. I need not however say, how widely
removed is such a statement, from the thesis against
which we are arguing; the thesis, viz. not that the will
ON MAN'S DESIRE OF FELICITY. 409
aims partially, but that it aims exclusively, at happiness ;
and that from the constitution of our nature it can aim
at nothing else.
In real truth, the only difficulty I find in dealing
with this thesis, is the difficulty of understanding how
any sane man can possibly have maintained it.
171. But indeed it seems to me a complete mistake,
to maintain that there is any one end of all human
action. It is not merely a mistake, I say, to maintain
that happiness is such an end, but that there is any
such. On the contrary, it has been shewn (I think) in
nn. 118, 119, p. 243-6, that there are just as many
absolute ends of human action, as there are 4boua
honesta' and 'delectabilia' within human cognizance.
To this an obvious reply will immediately be made.
4 In saying this, you are running counter to the
4 unanimous voice of theologians ; for they all agree in
4 asserting, that there is but one absolute end of human
* action, viz. Beatitude. You may raise questions, no
4 doubt, as to what is meant by ' Beatitude ;' we can by
4 no means take for granted that it is identical with
4 4 happiness ;' but that Beatitude (whatever is meant by
4 the term) is the one absolute end of human action, is
* the assertion undoubtedly and undoubtingly made by
* the great body of theologians.'
I reply (1) that one most eminent school of theolo-
gians, viz. the Scotists, have invariably denied the
statement altogether, that Beatitude is the real end of
all human action ; and in the ante-Tridentine period, the
Scotists were one of the two great schools which divided
Theology between them. I reply (2) that, among post-
Tridentine theologians, the most eminent of those who
adopt the statement in words, have explained it, in a
sense absolutely identical with the proposition which I
have been maintaining. I will first make good this
latter allegation.
Lugo, so far as I am aware, in no part of his works
makes any such statement, as that Beatitude is the
absolute end of all human action ; or that men in every
act aim at Beatitude. Vasquez however, Suarez, Viva,
410 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
and others, do make that statement; and now let us
see in what sense they make it. The following from
Vasquez will shew his interpretation of the phrase :—
(f Potissima in praesenti controversial difficultas est, in assignanda
ratione, ob quam dicatur quis omnia bona, quaa appetit, appetere
propter ultimum finem : omnes enim scholastici, excepto Scoto,
in eo conveniuut, ut dicant omnia bona, quse appetunttir, appeti
propter ultimum finem : nomine autem ultimi finis intelligimus
rationem optimi finis, qui dicitur esse Beatitude nostra, sive in hac
re sive in alia earn esse dicamus. Scotus tamen (in 4 distinctione
49. quoestione 10 §. 'ex his sequitur,') negat omnia bona, qua3
appetimus, appeti a nobis propter ultimum finem. Id vero probat
primum, equia potest quis appetere aliquod bonum singulare,ra£{o«^
bonitatis ipsius singularis, nihil cogitando de Beatitudine ; ergo
potest aliquid appetere, quod non appetat propter Beatitudinem :
nemo enim potest appetere aliquid propter aliquem finem, si de fine
non cogitavit. Deinde potest quis appetere aliquid, quod vere sciat
esse contra veram Beatitudinem ; ut occidere seipsum : et fidelis
homo appetit peccatum mortale, quod certb credit esse contra veram
Beatitudinem. Ergo non omnia quas appetit homo, appetit propter
Beatitudinem.'
" Communis autem et vera sententia est, omnia bona, quse a
nobis appetuntur, aliguo modo appeti propter Beatitudinem. Ita
docent Sanctus Thomas in hoc articulo, Cajetanus, Conradus, et
recentiores Thomistse ibidem, et idem Cajetanus 1 parte, quses-
tione 82. articulo 2. dub. 2. dist. 38. qusestione 4. numero 5. Imo
verb recentiores Thomistse nonnulli affirmant, Scoti sententiam,
non solum esse contra sanctum Thomam, sed etiam contra Aris-
totelem 1. Ethicorum capite 1. 4. & 7 ; Ciceronem libro 1. & 2.
de Finibus ; et Augustinum 19. de civitate Dei, capite 1 & 2.
Existimant enim recentiores illi Thomistse, ultimum finem a Doc-
toribus ita definiri, ut sit, in quern omnia referuntur, hoc est,
propter quern omnia appetuntur. Verum pra?dicti Doctores,
locis allegatis, non ita definiunt ultimum finem, quasi omnia in
ipsum actu referantur ; sed ut talis sit, in quern omnia referri
possint, quod sit optimum humanaB vitas. An vero, quidquid
appetitur, appetatur propter liunc finem, non definiunt; tametsi
August, alio in loco, quern inferius citabimus, hanc communem
sententiam, et optimo sensu, quern nos etiam inferius adducemusy
explicatam, plane tradiderit
(i His suppositis, duo sunt modi defendendi et confirmandi
praadictam sententiam, quam contra Scotum diximus veriorem esse.
Prior est Caietarii in hoc articulo, ad primum Scoti : qui docet,
omnia, quse nos appetimus, ideo appetere propter Beatitudinem
et ultimum finem, quia prsecessit qusedam voluntas Beatitudinis et
ON MAN'S DESIRE OF FELICITY. 411
ultimi finis, quae ita dicitur habitu manere, ut rationc illius omnes
nostrse actiones in eum finem referantur. In qua sententia fuisse
videtur Sanctus Thomas in hoc articulo ad. 3 & 1 . parte quasstione
60. articulo 2 ; cui etiam fundamento innitens, de priori voluntate
circa finem quae praecesserit, docet quaestione 2. de virtutibus
articulo 1. ad secundum, opera existentis in grati& esse mcritoria
vitae aeternae, ex priori voluntate charitatis. Eandeni rationem, et
modumexplicandi praedictam sententiam, videtur amplexus Durand.
in 2. distinctione 38. quaestione ilia 4. numero 8. et Conrad, in hoc
articulo in principio, et circa solutionem 3 : quamvis ipse alium
etiam modum et rationem hujus sententiae assignat. Convenit etiam
Capreol. in primo dist. 2. q. 3. art. 1. circa primam conclusionem.
" Verum hie modus explicandi hanc communem sententiam
firmum fundamentum non habet. Primum quidem, quia nemo
probabili aliquo fundamento affirmare potest, in omnibus, qui
libere operantur, semper praecessisse voluntatem expressam ultimi
finis, qui est Beatitudo nostra; ergo nullus probabili ratione ad-
ductus affirmare potest, omnia, quae nos appetimus, ideo appetere
propter ultimum finem, quia praecessit voluntas quaedam ultimi
finis. Deinde etiamsi praecessisset aliquando talis voluntas ultimi
finis, nihilominus ea non sufficeret, ut caetera opera virtute ipsius
in eundern finem referrentur. Etenim, ut optime notarunt Bona-
ventura (in 2. distinctione 41. articulo primo quaestione tertia
in corpore, et ad ultimum,) et Ricardus (ibidem articulo primo,
quaestione 2.) ut ex aliqua voluntate finis, quae praecessit, dicantur
aliqua opera sequentia in eundem finem referri, necesse est talem
voluntatem aliquo modo connecti cum sequentibus operibus, et
opera cum tali voluntate. Nam si prior voluntas omnino in-
terrupta sit, nee cum sequentibus operibus connexa, nulld ratione
ad ipsa opera videtur pertinere ; ac proinde neque opera sequentia
dici possunt ex tali voluntate in finem ordinari: cujus doctrinae
veritas, quam iterum repetemus (disputatione 32. capite 2. et dis-
putatione 75. capite 2.) confirmari potest tribus modis
" Jam vero, etiamsi concederemus voluntatem ultimi finis in
omnibus hominibus priorem esse caeteris voluntatibus, vel quia
initio vitae praecessit, vel quia quovis die vel hora earn re-
sumimus, nullo tamen fundamento probabili dicere possumus, ex
hdc voluntate derivari in nobis reliquas omnes voluntates, proximo
aut remote : ut experimento compertum est ; neque enim singula
nostra negotia ex hdc voluntate Beatitudinis universe inchoamus
et prosequimur. Ergo prsedicti Doctores non recte probant, quse-
cumque appetimus appetere propter Beatitudinem et ultimum
finem, ratione praecedentis voluntatis circa talem finem.
" Com munis igitur sententia — quae asserit omnia, quse appe-
timus, dici aliquo modo appeti propter ultimum finem, qui est
Beatitudo, — alio faciliori modo explicari potest, quern quidem Scolus
412 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
non negaret : ut enim colligitur ex rationibus ejus, solum negare
voluit, omnia appeti propter ultimum finem, nempe propter Beati-
tudinem expresse apprehensam : quod sane verissimum est. Faci-
lior igitur modus explicandi prsedictam communem sententiam est,
quern tradiderunt Durandus et Conradus locis citatis, et videtur
sequi Ferrarien (3 contra gent. cap. 17.) colligiturque ex Sancto
Thoma (in hoc articulo 6. in prima ratione) ; nempe ideo nos dici
appetere omnia propter ultimum finem, hoc est, propter Beati-
tudinem universe consideratam, quia omnia qua appetimus, solum
appetimus sub ratione boni : omnia autem, hoc ipso quod bona
sunt, sudpte naturd ad Beatitudinem videntur ordinata. Hoc autem
ita est intelligendum, non quia omnia, quse appetimus, natura sua
sint ordinata ad consequendam veram Beatitudinem ; cum multa
potius sint omnino contraria et inepta : sed quia in omnibus bonis
participatione quddam includitur affectus Beatitudinis. Nam af-
fectus Beatitudinis est, habere omne bonum et carere omni malo,
sive hoc sive illo modo id fiat ; et quia desiderio cujusque rei,
quam appetimus, desideramus habere aliquod bonum, et carere
aliquo malo, et ita requiem aliquam invenire, quse est veluti pars
qusedam Beatitudinis in universum considerate, — ideo dicimur
omnia appetere propter Beatitudinem, etiam appetendo id quod
peccatum est
" Ex qua doctrina, et vero sensu hujus sententise, constat, quam
parum roboris habeant rationes duse Scoti, quse in primo capite
allatse sunt, ad probandum non omnia, quaB nos appetimus, appetere
propter Beatitudinem. Nam prior ratio solum probat, nos non velle
omnia quse appetimus, propter ultimum finem (Beatitudinem scilicet
in universum), ratione voluntatis prascedentis, qua omnia futura
nostra opera retulerimus in talem finem: hoc autem nos libenter
fatemur ; atque talem voluntatem, etiamsi prsecessisset, ad hoc
minime sufficere capite primo demonstravimus : sed dicimus alia
ratione nos velle omnia propter ultimum finem, quam superius in
hoc capite explicuimus. Posterior vero ratio Scoti solum probat,
multa eorum, quse diligimus et appetimus, nihil conferre ad con-
sequendam re ipsa Beatitudinem in universum ; et ita recte probat,
nos non appetere, tanquam medium ad Beatitudinis consequutionem,
omnia quce appetimus; et prsesertim ea, qua3 tali consequutioni
adversari omnino cognoscimus : hoc tamen non obstat, quo minus
dicamur omnia appetere propter Beatitudinem universe considera-
tam, ea ratione, qua paulo antea in hoc capite id explicavimus,
nempe ratione participationis et assimilationis cujusdam" — In 1, 2,
Disput 6, c. 1 and c. 2.
Here then we have Vasquez's doctrine ; which may
be briefly expressed as follows : * c By Beatitude is
* Consider his words : ' habere aliquod bonum et carere aliquo malo,
est veluti pars qucedam Beatitudinia in universum considerate.'
ON MAN'S DESIRE OF FELICITY. 413
* meant the sum of every possible bonum. Hence, in
1 every act, I am in a very true sense aiming at Beati-
1 tude: for I am aiming at some bonum or other; and
4 consequently at some part or other of complete Beati-
' tude/
So Viva :
" II. Quseritur 2. An quicquid homo vult, prater Beatitudinem
seu finem ultimum, necessario velit propter illam ?
" Resp. cum Vasquez, disp. 6, cap. 2. Salas, Martinonio, quod
homo, quicquid vult praeter Beatitudinem, appetat propter illam
solum interpretative. Ratio est, quia non appetimus bona particu-
laria propter Beatitudinem formaliter et expresse, ut constat ex-
perientid. Neque virtualiter, ita ut ex intentione finis ultimi
prseterit£ procedant omnes intentiones finium particularium ; multa
enim amamus, quin prcecesserit amor ultimi finis, vel, si prsecesserit,
non perseverat virtualiter, dum particularia bona amamus9 ita ut
influat ac determinet ad istorum amorem. Nee demum habitua-
liter ; turn quia non est necesse, quod prsecesserit intentio ultimi
finis ad amorem bonorum particularium ; turn quia etiamsi prseces-
serit, potuit tamen, per voluntatem oppositam, ejus habitualis per-
severantia interrumpi : nam qui per peccatum deserit amorem
ultimi finis, non dicitur deinde alia bona appetere ex intentione
ultimi finis habitualiter perseverante ; cum ea sit interrupta per
peccatum. Quare quicquid homo appetit, prseter Beatitudinem,
solum interpretative appetit propter illam, confuse saltern, et abs-
tracto cognitam ; quatenus quisquis particulare aliquid bonum
vult, aut malum fugit, ita censetur erga illud affectus, ut bonum
totale, ad quod particulare ordinatur, esset voliturus, si offerretur."
— Pars ii., d. 2, q. 4, n. 2.
And Suarez, —
" UTRUM OMNES ACTIONES HOMINIS SINT PROPTER ULTIMUM FINEM
SIMPLICITER, SALTS M EX INCLINATIONS.
" Ratio dubitandi est, quia vel est sermo de fine ultimo
formali ; aut de fine ultimo materiali, seu de re ill&, ad quam homo
natura sua tendit, ut ad ultimum finem : neutro autem modb
videtur homo operari semper propter ultimum finem. De primo
patet, quia, ut supra dixi sectione 1, num. 6, intentio finis ultimi
formalis non sufficit ad electiones faciendas; atque ade6 nee ad
operandum propter finem, ex proprift intentione ipsius hominis
operantis: ergo nee etiam naturalis proportio ad hunc finem
formalem sufficit, ut homo in omni actu suo dicatur operari
propter ultimum finem hunc, ex inclinatione naturse; quia non
omnia, quce amat, sunt media ad hunc finem. Alter a pars probatur :
quia finis ultimus, ad quern homo natura sua tendit, est Deus;
414 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
sed non omnia, qua? homo .operatur, tendunt in Deum ; ut patet
maxime de actibus malis, seu peccatis : ergo,
" Hsec quaestio facillime expediri potest, suppositis his, quae
supra dicta sunt, in disput. 2. section 4. de variis modis operandi
propter finem : nam hie modus, de quo nunc agimus, non requirit
propriam intentionem ipsiusoperantis9\e\ prsesentem, vel praeteritam;
sed solum inter pretativam, quse censetur contineri in ipso objecto
proximo humanae operationis seu voluntatis, quatenus illud naturd
sud tendit in aliud, vel tanquam medium ad finem, vel tanquam
pars ad totum. Unde dicendum est primo, hominem in omnibus
actibus suis, tarn bonis quam malis, operari aliquo modo propter
ultimum finem formalem ; ex naturali connexione cujuscumque
objecti voluntatis cum tali fine. Ita est intelligendus D. Thorn.
1. 2. q. 1. a. 6. ut clarius idem explicuit in 4. dist. 49. qua?st. 1.
artic. 3. qua3stiunc.4. ubi cseteri Theologi idem sentiunt; prseter eos,
qui existimant voluntatem posse ferri in malum sub ratione mali,
quod improbabile est, ut nunc suppono. Et colligitur eadem con-
clusio ex Arist. (1, Ethicorum capite 4 et 7. et 1. Rhetor, cap. 5,)
et est frequens apud Augustin. (10. Confess, cap. 20 et 21. e lib. 11.
de Trinit. cap. 6. lib. 19. de Civit. capite 1, et lib. de Epicureis et
Stoicis.) f Nam qui et bonus est/ inquit, ' ideo bonus est, ut beatus
sit ; et qui malus est, malus non esset, nisi inde beatum se posse
esse speraret.' Secundo, ratio est clara ; quia homo naturaliter
appetit complementum omnis boni; in omni autem voluntate sua
appetit saltern partem, seu inchoationem aliquam, hujus boni : ergo
implicit^ et interpretative appetit quidquid appetit, quatenus confert
aliquo modo ad suum completum bonum ; et hoc est amare illud
interpretative propter ultimum finem formalem. Confirmatur, et
explicatur : quia licet non pracedat in homine intentio elicita hujus
finis, pra3cedit tamen naturalis propensio in ilium ; et ab hoc
procedunt omnes actus circa particularia bona: ergo saltern
impetu naturae omnes tendunt in hujusmodi finem. In quibus
rationibus intelligitur, hoc non solum procedere in actionibus
liberis, sed etiam in omni appetitu cujuscumque boni. Intelli-
gitur etiam, hanc habitudinem particularium finium seu objec-
torum ad ultimum finem formalem, non tarn esse medii ad finem
proprie loquendo, quam partis ad totum ; secundum veritatem, aut
saltern secundum apparentiam et similitudinem : ut recte D. Th.
explicuit. Nam quando homo appetit, v. gr. voluptatem, aliquo
modo earn existimat partem sui completi boni; quia licet talis
voluptas non semper sit ilia, qua3 vere pertinet ad perfectionem
felicitatis humanae, habet tamen quandam similitudinem cum illd."
— De ultimo Fine, disp. 3, sec. 6, nn. 1 and 2.
Oviedo, a Jesuit theologian of no very great
eminence, has happened to express the same doctrine
ON MAN'S DESIRE OF FELICITY. 415
with extreme clearness ; professing simply to follow
Vasquez : —
" Hac prajmissft explications Beatitudinis in communi, asscro,
ex eo homines omnia objecta prosequi propter Beatitudinem in
communi, quia ea prosequuntur formaliter ut lona ; sive eorum
bonitas in re vera sit, sive tantum apparens : et dum fugiunt
objecta, ea fugiunt quia mala, quod est prosequi ipsorum ca-
rentiam. Unde homo, in quocumque actu, aut prosequitur bonum
aut carentiam mali : quod est prosequi partem Beatitudinis ; cum
Beatitudo sita sit in cumulo omnium bonorum et carentid omnium
malorum, quse secum afFerunt quietem et tranquil litatem animi,
et satietatem appetitus, quam semper affectat homo in suis actibus,
et inveniendam existimat in objectis qua) prosequitur. Ideo in
quocumque, saltern partem Beatitudinis sibi prafigit ; falso tamen,
dum aliquid extra Deum appetit, quia solus Deus animum Deo
capacem potest replere et satiare. Appetit insuper homo partem
illam Beatitudinis, dum hoc bonum appetit seu carentiam hujus
mali, sub ilia ratione, sub qua omnia quaecumque alia, quibus
Integra Beatitudo constituitur, ad Beatitudinem pertinent; unde
in illo objecto, quod est tantum partialis Beatitudo, seu ut pars
Beatitudinis apprehenditur, appetit homo rationem illam formalem9
ex vi cujus alia objecta, simul cum isto, Beatitudinem adasquatam
constituunt; nempe rationem boni et fugam mali, in quibus ap-
petitus quiescit, et quibus satiatur ; sub qu&, ad Beatitudinem sive
veram sive fictam, pertinet quidquid illam constituit." — De
Beatitudine, Contr. i. Punct 2, n. 1 1.
Yet it must not be supposed that all theologians,
who are not Scotists, even adopt the expression which
we have been considering. For instance, Becanus, a
Jesuit whose name as a scholastic stands very high,
asserts, in so many words, that we have the power
* nolendi Beatitudinem in communi.'' This is the passage :
" Dices, ( Nemo potest nolle Beatitudinem in communi : erg6
nee Beatitudinem supernaturalem in particulari, quae consistit in
Visione Beatifica; cum sit par ratio.' Respondeo. Verum est,
quando Beatitudo apprehenditur secundum se, sine ulla alia
circumstantia : falsum, quando apprehenditur, ut difficilis et
ardua ad acquirendum. Sed contra : ' Nemo potest nolle bonum
in communi, quucunque facta suppositione : Ergo etiam non potest
nolle Beatitudinem in communi, in simili casu. Antecedens
patet, quia omnis nolitio fundatur in volitione ; et omnis volitio
est alicujus boni/ Respondeo: Negatur consequentia; quia non
est eadein ratio de bono in communi, et de Beatitudine in com-
416 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
muni. Nam bonum in communi includitur in omni bono par-
ticular! ; ac proinde nemo potest velle bonum aliquod particulare,
quin simul velit bonum in communi. At Beatitudo in communi non
includitur in omni bono particulari; quia significat bonum integrum
et consummation, quod non invenitur in omni bono particulari.
Unde potest quis velle bonum aliquod particulare, quod repugnet
Beatitudini in communi ; et consequenter potest nolle Beatitudinem
in communi" — De Beat. cap. i. quaest. xi. n. 4.
Sporer again, certainly one of the most eminent
writers on Moral Theology, thus expresses himself:—
e< Hanc libertatem habet homo pro hoc statu, quoad omnia
prorsus objecta ; tarn ipsum ultimum finem, quam media quse-
cumque. Quia nimirum nullum omnino objectum, in hac vita, tarn
necessario apparet prosequendum, tit omissio actus circa illud non
etiam aliquam rationem boni habeat. Quin ipsam etiam Beati-
tudinem, in hdc vita, nee libet nee expedit semper actu appetere."-
De Actibus Humanis, n. 7.
And these words of Bellarmine, which I have already
quoted in a different connection, to say the least,
breathe a spirit greatly at variance with the statement,
that men are always aiming at Beatitude : —
" Est incredibilis qucedam negligentia in iis, quas ad beate
vivendum, turn in hac vM, turn etiam post mortem, pertinent,"-
De Amiss. Grat.. lib. vi. cap. 10.
You will have observed Vasquez' language, in re-
gard to Scotus. He says expressly, that Scotus would
freely hold his (Vasquez') doctrine; and he implies
therefore, that the difference is merely one of words.
In regard to that question of words, for myself I most
earnestly follow Scotus: I cannot but consider that
great confusion and misunderstanding is likely to
ensue, so long as the statement which we have been
considering is generally admitted into Theology. Ac-
cording to the same mode of speech, as it seems to
me, I might say, that the one motive which in-
fluences every day-labourer in England to pursue his
vocation, is his desire of realizing a million of money.
According to our opponents, it may be properly said
that man in every act aims at Beatitude, because in
ON MAN'S DESIRE OF FELICITY. 417
every act he aims at some bonum or other, and every
bonum is a part of Beatitude. I reply, that, according
to the same mode of expression, every day-labourer
is aiming at the possession of a million of money :
because he is aiming at the possession of some small
sum ; and every small sum is part of a million pounds.
All those theologians whom I have cited, you see,
plainly hold what I hold; viz. that, instead of there
being any one absolute end of human action, there
are as many distinct ends, as there are distinct bona
within human cognizance. No one can doubt then,
that any Catholic, who considers this to be the view in-
dicated by genuine psychological investigation, has the
fullest liberty to embrace it. Nor would this liberty
be one whit less, even though it were true that St.
Thomas or St. Augustine is differently minded.
You may ask me however, what I consider to be
St. Thomas' doctrine on the subject. In the first place
it would seem perfectly clear, that with him 4 Beatitude7
is by no means synonymous with * happiness,' — if we
consider only what he says in one single article, 1, 2,
q. 4, a. 2. In that article he decides, that the Vision
of God is a more principal part of Beatitude, than is
the delight which follows on that Vision. Our eternal
happiness on the other hand consists, beyond all pos-
sible question, in that delight itself, and in nothing else.
Hence our eternal happiness, according to St. Thomas,
is not even the principal part of our Eternal Beatitude.
In the second place however, I cannot persuade
myself that St. Thomas' meaning is accurately repre-
sented by Vasquez and Viva. I hold their doctrine as
most certainly true ; but I cannot persuade myself, that
it is St. Thomas' doctrine. What St. Thomas' doc-
trine is, it is not very easy to discover; and though I
do incline to a certain definite opinion on the subject,
it is by no means worth while to state and defend
that opinion. I have admitted that I cannot claim St.
Thomas' authority, for that doctrine on the subject
which appears to me true ; and the question therefore
E E
4 1 8 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
what St. Thomas' precise opinion was, becomes a ques-
tion of merely historical interest.
You may further ask, how far is Bossuet justified
in citing St. Augustine as on his side? Both Vasquez
and Oviedo maintain, and I think with reason, that
when St. Augustine declares that man is ever aiming
at Beatitude, he understands by that phrase no more,
than the doctrine which Vasquez himself understands
by it; a doctrine altogether consistent with the pro-
position which we have throughout maintained. If
you care to examine the matter for yourselves, I
would refer you to the entire passages of those theolo-
gians, from which I have taken the preceding extracts.
You will there find (1) St. Augustine's statement ; (2)
their interpretation of that statement ; and (3) their
reasons (in my opinion very cogent ones) for affixing
that interpretation.
419
SECTION II.
On the Claims of Self- Charity.
172. Since then man is no way necessitated (far
indeed from it) to be ever aiming at his own happi-
ness, it becomes a very practical question, how far he
is morally obliged so to do. I will only attempt here
to state the broad and general principles, which appear
to me true in relation to this subject; leaving to our
theological course their development and application.
173. First Principle. It is metaphysically impossi-
ble, that any act or series of actions, which is morally
obligatory, shall be otherwise than conducive to my
happiness on the whole; taking in the entire sum of
my existence. I consider that this is both an intuitive
and also an inferential truth.
(1.) It is an intuitive truth. There can be no
better test of a legitimate moral intuition (as we found
in Chap. I. Sect. 6) than this, — that all those who
have given their Moral Faculty any considerable cul-
tivation, agree in recognizing it as such. Now let any
one, thus qualified, imagine for a moment that a duty
were proposed to his performance, and at the same
time that he were informed, on indisputable authority,
that the sum of his happiness would be promoted by
violating that duty. Surely such a supposition speaks
for itself. He would consider himself, in such a case,
to be under two contradictory obligations ; or in other
words he would intue, that such an imaginary case is
metaphysically impossible.
(2.) The same truth is known to us, by way of in-
ference from the Existence of a Holy Creator and Moral
Governor of the World. It is evidently implied, in
the very idea of such a Moral Governor, that the path
420 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
of virtue and of real permanent happiness shall in
every single case be made identical; that no one shall
obtain increase of happiness, simply from disobeying
his Creator's Command.
The Christian Revelation on the whole, as is most
evident, confirms this principle which Reason declares ;
it tells us, that to every good act God has awarded
recompense, and to every bad act punishment. At the
same time there are certain facts, which, on the surface
at least, seem inconsistent with this principle. As one
instance of what I mean, take such a case as the fol-
lowing, which is often mentioned by theologians. A
Christian, in mortal sin, is under the moral obligation,
e.g. of confessing the Faith and undergoing mar-
tyrdom. It would appear on the surface, that, by com-
plying with this obligation, he irreparably injures his
own permanent happiness ; for he loses those years,
which he might have devoted to repentance and good
works. I merely mention such cases here, to shew
that I have not forgotten them ; for a solution of the
difficulty which they involve, we must wait for our
theological course.
174. Second Principle. It is metaphysically im-
possible, that one act or series of acts, shall be more
morally worthy than another, without being also more
conducive to the agent's happiness on the whole. This,
like the former, I consider to be both an intuitive
and also an inferential truth. It may be established, on
grounds precisely similar to those on which we rested
our first principle; it may be met by an objection pre-
cisely similar; and in this, as in the former case, we
defer our consideration of that objection to our theo-
logical course.
175. Third principle. Self-charity is a virtuous end
of action (nn. 54-56). Let us consider what is involved
in this statement. We have seen e. g. (n. 54) that
Justice is a ' virtuous end of action.' Let us see what
various propositions this implies ; and let us also see how
the same propositions hold in regard to Self-charity.
(1) An act, motived by the virtuousness of Justice,
ON THE CLAIMS OF SELF-CHARITY. 421
is itself virtuous ; and the more so, in proportion as the
will is fixed on that virtuousness with greater firmness
and efficacity (see nn. 56 and 58). This holds in every
respect of Self-charity. Suppose I am tempted by some
immediate sinful gratification : and suppose I resist that
temptation, on no other grounds than this; — viz., the
virtuousness of preferring my permanent and integral
happiness to the passing pleasures of a moment. In pro-
portion as we have cultivated our Moral Faculty, we
shall intue, with the greater keenness and irresistible-
ness, that this act is virtuous ; and the more virtuous,
in proportion as my will is fixed on that virtuousness
with the greater firmness and efficacity.
(2.) Caeteris paribus, A is a more virtuous man than
B in proportion as ne has acquired the habit of Justice
in a greater degree; or (in other words) as he possesses
more strongly the prevalent intention (see n. 114, p. 237)
of acting justly. It is very evident that in like manner,
caeteris paribus, A is a more virtuous man than B, in
proportion as he has acquired the habit of Self-charity
in a greater degree; or (in other words) in proportion
as he possesses more strongly the prevalent intention, of
acting in accordance with his own permanent happiness.
We shall see however, in the course of our theological
discussion, that in the case of Self-charity we may go
much further than in the case of Justice ; and that the
qualification ' cseteris paribus ' is unnecessary. We
shall see that simply and absolutely, in proportion as
any one grows in virtue, his prevalent intention of pro-
moting his own permanent happiness will constantly
increase.
(3.) Lastly, if I commit an unjust act, e. g\, refuse
to return a deposit, — my act is sinful, as in various
other ways, so also in this, that it is contrary to Justice.
Even were it not sinful under other heads, the simple
fact of its being contrary to Justice would suffice to
make it so. In like manner here. If I commit any sin
whatever, such an act, as it possesses various ' malitise,'
so possesses also this, that it is opposed to Self-charity ;
' contra obligationeni,' as theologians say, ' procurandse
422 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
proprise salutis;' or ' caritatis erga meipsuin.' Even if
(per inipossibile) it were not sinful on other grounds,
this alone would suffice to make it sinful.
These are the three principal truths included in the
statement, that Self-charity is a 'virtuous end of action/
176. Fourth principle. It often happens, that I
avoid sin from the motive of promoting my own happi-
ness, while yet my will is not at all directed to the
virtuomness of that motive. I may be tempted, e. g.,
to some sin of sensuality : and the thought of Hell-fire
may protect me against the temptation, simply from this
fact; viz., that the practical impression of that future
suffering preponderates (even in the way of simple
emotion) over the practical impression of present plea-
sure. Under these circumstances, the temptation in
fact ceases ; and the act of will, whereby I resolve not
to commit the contemplated sin, is motived, not by the
virtuousness, but by the (negative) pleasurableness, of
escaping so awful a doom. ' Surely,' it may be said,
' such an act is most commendable, although not motived
at all by the virtuousness of Self-charity.'
It is impossible certainly that an act can be virtuous,
of which pleasurableness is the absolute end. In regard
however to the act in question, wre may say in the first
place that it is at all events indifferent ; free from the
very slightest admixture of evil. This will be abun-
dantly proved in our theological course, when we come
to consider what are the characteristics of an evil act.
We may add further (and this will be our second
remark on the subject) that this act, in itself indifferent,.
is invariably accompanied by another, which is always
virtuous, and commonly virtuous in a very high degree.
This virtuous act, in the particular case which we
have taken as our instance, may be thus analysed : c I
' fix my mind earnestly on the thought of Hell-fire,
' — that I may escape from this temptation, — that I
4 may the better conform my Will to God's, Who is so
4 worthy of love;' or 'that I may obey the commands
' of my Holy Creator;' or c that I may promote my own
' permanent happiness ;' or the like. Such acts as these
ON THE CLAIMS OF SELF-CHA1UTY. 423
then vary indefinitely from each other, as to the precise
motive which influences them; but in the substance (as
distinct from the end) they agree. In all such acts, the
Will compels the Intellect to ponder, e. g\, on the awful-
ness of Hell-torments, so intently and resolutely, that
the needed practical impression is produced, and the
temptation vanishes. And such an act is always present
in the case supposed : because, when some present plea-
sure is offered, it is only by means of an effort, nay, in
general of very considerable effort, (as daily experience
shews) that we can bring the thought of future anguish
to bear on the present pleasure, and neutralize its im-
pression. Acts of this kind will be specially considered
in our theological course, under their recognized appel-
lation, ' actus extrinsece imperantes.'
Such then I consider to be the true philosophical
principles, on which our theological treatment of Self-
charity must throughout be based.
CHAPTER IV.
ON THE VARIOUS KINDS OF CERTAINTY AND IMPOSSIBILITY.
177. THIS is the last philosophical subject, which it will
be necessary to consider in this introductory book.
And in this, as in other cases, our intention is by no
means to probe it to its depths ; but to say only what is
absolutely necessary, for the purposes of that part of
Theology, which we are afterwards to treat. There are
several questions, of great intricacy and difficulty, con-
nected with the various kinds of certainty ; but we shall
be able (I trust) altogether to avoid these, without
injuring at all the scientific completeness of our work.
Things may be certain in themselves, or certain to
us* The former kind of certainty may be called ' ob-
jective,' the latter 'subjective;' and the latter is that
with which we shall commence. Things are considered
certain to us, if these two conditions concur: (1) that
we have in fact no doubt about them; (2) that we have
fully sufficient reason to be thus without doubt, f
178. Subjective certainty is either (1) experimental
or (2) theoretical. By experimental certainty, I mean
our conviction that our various judgments of experience
* "Est autem duplex certitude: Una objecti, id est, rei cognitae, vel
creditae ; Altera subjecti, id est hominis cognoscentis, vel credentis. Prior
certitude est immutabilitas rei, quse re vera aliter se habere non potest,
quam creditur, vel cognoscitur : qua notione dicimus, certum esse, Deum
esse bonum, peccatum esse rnalum. Posterior certitudo est firinitas quae-
dam assens&s nostri ad rem, quso cognoscenda vel credenda proponitur : de
qua certitudine loquinaur, cum dicimus : 'Hoc mihi est certum :' 'ego de
hac re certus sum :' ' hoc habeo pro comperto :' id est, ' ita firmiter adhaereo
huic sententiae, ut prorsus de illius veritate non dubitem." — BELLARMIXE,
De Justification^ lib. iii. cap. 2, n. 2.
t "Qui certo credunt ea quse falsa sunt, non tarn certi, quam persuasi,
dici debent." — BELLARM. De Just. lib. iii. cap. 2, n. 5.
ON CERTAINTY AND IMPOSSIBILITY. 425
(see n. 1, p. 5) are correct. I feel at this moment the
sensation which we call cold, or I experience the pheno-
menon which we call anger. That I really do have
this feeling, — that I really do experience this pheno-
menon,— is to me a matter of 'experimental' certainty.
Every other kind of subjective certainty we may call
* theoretical/
179. The first and most important kind of 'theo^e-
tical' certainty, may be called ' fundamental-/ it is our
conviction that we may trust our faculties; that we
may confidently form certain ' intuitive' judgments. See
n. 6, p. 14.
180. The second kind of theoretical certainty is
called 'metaphysical.' It exists, whenever, on sufficient
grounds, we recognize any truth as necessary. See n.
13, p. 24. I am metaphysically certain, that a rectilineal
figure of three sides has three angles ; that the base
angles of an isosceles triangle are equal to each other ;
that in a right-angled triangle the square of the hypo-
thenuse equals the sum of the square of the sides ; that
there is such an attribute as moral evil, appertaining to
certain actions; that Veracity and Humility are vir-
tuous ends of action ; that generosity is morally better
than selfishness; that a Holy Creator exists, Infinite
in all Perfections ; that obedience to Him is our
highest duty; &c. &c.
181. The third kind of theoretical certainty, is
called ' physical.' It is that which arises necessarily,
from my knowledge of this or that definite and assign-
able natural property, or assemblage of natural proper-
ties. See n. 165, p. 392-7. It is physically certain to
me, that, unless a miracle be wrought, no human beings
are able to remain supported in mid-air; that, unless a
miracle is wrought, an explosion will take place, when-
ever fire is brought into contact with dry gunpowder;
that, unless a miracle be wrought, the expectation of
severe pain is itself painful ; that, unless a miracle be
wrought, a proud man, who receives some galling insult,
will experience violent emotions of anger ; &c. &c.
Two different ways of expressing ourselves, are here.
426 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
possible. We may express ourselves thus : ' It is phy-
' sically certain that no human being can remain in
4 mid-air; that the expectation of pain is itself painful;'
&c. &c. Or we may express ourselves, as I have done :
8 It is physically certain that, unless a miracle is wrought,
' these results will ensue.' I prefer this latter mode of
expression ; because otherwise physical certainty would
not be absolute, but only hypothetical, certainty.
182. But there are very many things, of which I am
absolutely certain, which cannot be ranked under any
of these heads. Thus I am absolutely certain that the
city of Rome exists ; quite as certain as I am that fire,
Fut to dry gunpowder, will produce an explosion. Yet
have never seen Rome ; nor if it were alleged that all
the witnesses who testify its existence had combined to
deceive me, could it be said that this allegation is
opposed to any definite and assignable natural proper-
ties. In like manner, I am absolutely certain, that a
stout and lazy man, reasonably well off and not miserly,
will not go ten miles in two hours for the sake of a half-
crown wager. And yet no physical property would be
violated if he did so ; he has perfect physical power to
achieve the bodily feat in question ; and if he were pur-
sued all the way by a man with a drawn sword, trying
to kill him, he probably would achieve it.
It is a characteristic of moral certainty, that it is
constituted by a gradual increase of those conditions,
which constitute probability. If three independent
witnesses assure me of Rome's existence, the fact
becomes probable to me; if ten, very probable; if fifty,
almost certain : but long before you reach that number
and variety of informants who in fact combine their
testimony, absolute certainty has been reached. So
again, that such a man as above described will not go
four miles in two hours for such a wager, is very pro-
bable ; that he will not go six, almost certain ; that he
will not go anything like ten, is quite absolutely certain.
The phrase ' morally certain ' is sometimes used indeed
in a less strict sense, to express that which is in the very
greatest degree probable, though not quite absolutely
ON CERTAINTY AND IMPOSSIBILITY. 427
certain. But this sense of the wOrd is wholly distinct
from our use of it in this Chapter; and indeed (to
prevent confusion) I shall never myself use the phrase
in any such sense.*
183. So much on subjective certainty, or things
certain to us : but there is also an objective certainty ;
there are things certain in themselves. Here indeed an
obvious difficulty may be interposed. 4 Of course very
* many things are certain in themselves : for of every
' thing which ever happened or ever will happen, we
' may truly say, that it certainly happened, — that it
4 certainly will happen.' Such certainty is 4 a posteriori ;'
and the remark is undoubtedly true. But there are
many things 'objectively7 certain 'a priori;' and it is
of these things that it is important to speak.
Truths are ' objectively certain a priori,' when there
are grounds for certainly knowing them, quite inde-
pendently of any direct knowledge, that they have ex-
isted or will exist. And yet it may happen very fre-
quently indeed, that these truths are not certain to
us: because we have not the means of knowing these
grounds ; or have not the faculties, enabling us to
deduce from them their legitimate inference. Thus,
there is a very large number of mathematical truths,
objectively certain ; to the Angels perhaps subjectively
* " Evidentia Metaphysica est, quando clar£ apparet, rem nullo modo
posse aliter se habere : v. g. duo et duo esse quatuor ; nihil posse simul
esse, et non esse ; et alia similia. Evidentia autem Physica est, quando
constat clare, rem, licdt metaphysice* possit aliter se habere, non tamen
physice, seu attentd virtute causarum physicarum et naturalium,; v. g. ignem
applicatum subjecto capaci calefacere ; sab accidentibus panis dari panis
suDstantiam ; et similia. Denique Evidentia Moralis dicitur, quando, licet
metaphysicd non repugnet contrariuni, neque etiam physice, hoc est,
attentft virtute causarum naturalium, — apparet tamen dare talis et tanta
difficultas, ut ratione illius numquam contrarium ponatur, vel ponendum
credatur, in aliquo casu. Et ided dicimus esse Evidentiam Moralem apud
nos, de exixtentid regionis Indices, quain nunquam vidimus : quia licet,
attenta virtute causarum naturalium, non repugnet physicd, quod omnes,
qui nobis testificati sunt de India mentiri voluerint ; hoc tamen ipsum est
adeo difficile, ut non credamus id unquam eventurum, ut tot tamque
diversi testes convener] nt ad volendum nos decipere ; et cum tanta
uniformitate et constantia nobis eadem, diversis etiam temporibus et locis,
testificentur, absque ulla discrepantia : et idcirco dicimus, nos habere
Moralem Evidentiam, et plusquam fidem humanam, de Indica regione ;
quod sufficit, ut intellectus convincatur, nee possit, nisi per summam
dementiam et obstinationem, dissentire." — LUGO, De Fide, Disp. 2, n. 40.
428 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
certain ; but which no man has ever yet proved or
even thought of.
Objective a priori certainty is either ' metaphysical/
4 physical,' or 'moral:' a division which altogether cor-
responds, to the division of ' subjective certainty.' All
necessary truths, whether we recognize them as such or
not, are ' metaphysically' certain a priori. Every truth
is 'physically' certain a priori, which results from
definite and assignable laws of nature ; and there are,
I need not say, multitudes of such truths, whereof we
have no suspicion. The law of gravitation, e.g. was
physically certain a priori in Homer's time no less than
in our's; it has become subjectively certain only within
the last centuries. Every truth which is ' objectively
certain a priori,' and yet neither metaphysically nor
physically certain, is c morally certain a priori.'
184. If any truth is certain a priori, its contradictory
is ' impossible : ' and there are therefore the same kinds
of 'impossibility,' which there are of objective a priori
certainty. Thus it is metaphysically impossible, that
there can be a triangle, whose united angles shall exceed
two right angles ; or that a rational creature can, with-
out sin, refuse obedience to his Holy Creator. It is
physically impossible, that, unless a miracle be wrought,
a stout man can walk on a bridge made of ordinary
paper; or a proud man receive a galling insult, without
experiencing emotions of rage. It is morally impossible,
that a stout lazy man, reasonably well off and not
miserly, shall go ten miles in two hours, for the sake of
a half-crown wager.*
We have said as much on this subject of certainty
and impossibility, as is requisite for our subsequent
Theology. At the same time I am well aware, how
extremely superficial our remarks have been, if they are
considered as any approach to a full philosophical treat-
ment of the whole matter.
* " Ad hoc enim ut aliquid sit moraliter impossible, duo requiruntur ;
nee unum sine altero sufficit : scilicet quod illud nunquam fuerit, vel
futurum sit, imo nee videatur futumm sub conditione, in hac vel alia sirnili
hypothesi ; et prseterea, quod hoc ipsum oriatur ex summa difficultate,
quani oporteret vincere ad ponendum illud." — LUGO, De Incarnatione,
disp. 2, n. 14.
429
SUPPLEMENTARY SECTION.
BEING SECTION 4TII OF CHAPTER FIRST.
Catholic Authority on Independent Morality.
185. Certain Catholics, as I observed in the third
Section, are under the impression, that there is some
overwhelming amount of theological authority for the
thesis, that all moral obligation springs from God's
Command. The first and principal part of this Section
then will be devoted, to establishing the contradictory
of this. I will shew that so considerable a number of
the greatest Catholic writers oppose themselves to any
such thesis, that at all events any Catholic, who may
regard it as opposed to Reason, has the fullest liberty
of denying it. I will afterwards consider the bearing
of Catholic authority on those other theories, adverse
to ours, which were enumerated in the third Section.
Now as to the proposition that all moral obligation
springs from God's free Command, — this is not only not
held by the body of theologians; it is actually de-
nounced by them: and I imagine no Catholic could
maintain it, without incurring some theological censure.
At all events the following passage of Father Perrone
will sufficiently shew, how unanimously Catholic theo-
logians reject any such proposition.
" Hue demum, ut plura alia ejusdem generis silentio prseter-
earaus, recidit doctrina ilia, cui tot Protestantes juris natune scrip-
tores firmissime adhaeserunt, nullum intrinsecum inter bonnm ac
malum morale dari discrimen, sed illud a Liberd tqntum ac Positivd
Dei Voluntate totum esse repetendum ; unde consequitur, ipsum
ex positiva duntaxat Dei revelatione posse innotescere."
F F
430 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
To this passage F. Perrone appends the following
note : —
" Haec fttit palmaris doctrina Pufendorfii, quam ipse a parente
suo Luthero hausit. Eum sequuti sunt Cocceijus, ac saltern ex
parte Heineccius, Thomasius, aliique e Protestantibus. Ita etiam
Seldenus a positiva Dei revelatione totum jus naturale repetit.
Hinc omnes isti Protestantes juristae doctores scholasticos vehementer
irrident ac exagitant, eo quod intrinsecum boni ac inali moralis dis-
crimen in ipsis rerum essentiis ac naturd fundatum tuentur, ac Legem
^Eternam in Deo, a Libera Dei Voluntate independentem, vindi-
cant. Haud ergo satis mirari possumus, quomodo philosophus
Scotus, magni inter recentiores nominis, Dugald Stewart, in
praBfatione quam praemisit volumini primo Supplement! Britan-
nicaB Encyclopedias, hanc Melanchthoni tribuere gloriam potuerit,
quod nempe primus omnium docuerit distinctionem inter bonum
ac malum morale, non a revelatione, sed ab intrinsecd rerum naturd
dimanantem ; sic, ut (ipse subdit) Catholici posthac ex Protes-
tantibus doctrinam hanc sint mutuali. Num ha3c ipsa doctrina
non omnibus fere jam antea scholasticis communis erat, si
Occamum, Nominalium parentem, excipias ; qui tamen statim ac
contrarium docuit, ceteros pene omnes scholasticos sibi adversos habuit,
et a pluribus, quos inter a Jo. Duns Scoto, invicte refntatus
est? Num scholastici ob hoc ipsum tot a Protestantibus, quos
commemoravimus, injurias pati non debuerunt? Num contraria
sententia, quae morales distinctiones omnino tollit, non fuit a
Luthero ejusque sectatoribus prcedicata ? Adeo praejudicia protest-
antismi philosopho, cseteroqui commendabili, Stewarto, fucum
facere potuerunt !" — PERRONE de Locis Theologicis, pars 3, n. 9.
Billuart again expressly says, that even in his days
this opinion had entirely disappeared from among
Catholics : —
" Okam, Gerson, Petrus de Alliaco, et pauci quidam antiqui,
opinati sunt Deum posse absolute dispensare in omnibus prseceptis
Legis Naturae, imo totam illam Legem abrogare; ita ut etiam
odium Dei non esset peccatum. Sed haec opinio merito rejicitur
ab aliis theologis, et nunc inolevit."
As to the present day, if such an opinion could be
found in any Catholic school of Philosophy, it would be
among the traditionalists. But I have before me a most
vigorous assault on F. Chastel S. J. by F. Ventura ; in
which the writer (as I understand him) expressly de-
CATHOLIC AUTHOBITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 431
clines to carry his opposition any such monstrous length.
These are his words : —
" ' Dieu,' dit cet auteur semi-rational iste (Chastel), ' loin de
decider arbitrairement le bien et le mal, est au contraire ndcessitd
par Sa Perfection & defendre Tun et k vouloir Pautre.' Cela est
tres-vrai." — Le Semi-Rationalisme Ddvoild. Par le Pere Ventura
de Raulica, p. 82. Ed. 1856.
186. On this truly monstrous and blasphemous
position then, no more need be said. But we are now
to go further: we are to give some specimen of the
amount of theological authority adducible against the
proposition, that God's Necessary Command is the
source of all moral obligation.
We will begin with the Church's condemnation of
two propositions ; they are the 48th and 49th of those
condemned by Innocent XI. in 1679. (See Denzinger,
pp. 328, 329.)
" Tarn clarum videtur fornicationem secundum
" se nullam involvere malitiam, et soliim esse malam
" quia interdicta, ut contrarium omnino ration!
"dissonum videatur."
" Mollities jure naturae prohibita non est.
" Unde, si Deus earn non interdixisset, ssepe esset
" bona, et aliquando obligatoria sub mortal!."
I will not go the length of saying, that it is impos-
sible to accept this condemnation in any imaginable
sense, without denying the proposition which we com-
bat : yet the general bearing of the condemnation is
none the less obvious. Caramuel is condemned for
maintaining, that the two sins here mentioned are only
1 mala quia prohibita ;' in other words, for not admitting
that they are intrinsecally evil, apart from God's Pro-
hibition. But if, apart from God's Prohibition, they are
independently evil, then, apart from God's Prohibition,
we are under the independent obligation of avoiding
them.
187. The next citation was pointed out to me by a
Jesuit friend, as illustrating the present subject. It is
432 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
from a work, which can by no means indeed claim for
any of its statements the authority due to an actual
decision of the Church ; but which will nevertheless be
admitted by all Catholics, as possessing very far
greater weight than the dictum of any single theo-
logian. I refer to the Spiritual Exercises of S. Ignatius.
The citation is taken from the Second Exercise of the
First Week : and the person going through the Exer-
cises is exhorted, as his ' secundum punctum/
"peccata ipsa perpendere, quanta sit foeditas et nequitia singu-
lorum ex naturd sud, si vel prohibita non essent."
To this text, F. Roothaan appends an explanatory
note.
(( Intellige, ob inordinationem et oppositionem quam habent
ad rectam Rationem, etiamsi, per impossibile ubi de Legis
Nature Prasceptis agitur, non existeret Lex prohibens. Cogita
v.g. blasphemiam, perjuriam, calumniam, oppressionem innocentis,
proditionem, seminationem discordiae, &c. &c. singula utique tur-
pissima, rectitudini naturali contraria, etiamsi neque Lex prohibens
nee poenge sanctio cogitetur."
I need hardly add, that if such acts are base and
wicked, independently of any Prohibition, — then there
exists a moral obligation of avoiding them, indepen-
dently of any Prohibition.
188. Next let us proceed to the great post-Tridentine
scholastics; who will be found, in handling the subject,
to cite no small amount of anterior testimony also.
And first for Suarez. This great theologian treats
the question very fully in his " De Legibus;'' which is
usually considered his greatest and most authoritative
work. The Chapters, in which this treatment is to be
found, are the fifth and sixth Chapters of the second
Book. I will first give various extracts from these
Chapters, and then an analysis of their contents.
Let us commence with certain statements, put
forth by him as arguments for a certain doctrine of
Vasquez, which he (Suarez) opposes. These state-
ments themselves are certainly true in Suarez's judg-
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 433
ment, because he immediately subjoins these words :
4 In hac [Vasquezii] sententia, veram esse existimo doc-
1 trinam quam in fundameuto supponit, de intrinsecd
' honestate vel malitid actuum, quse sub Legem Natu-
' ralem cadunt.' (lib. ii. c. v. n. 5.) What his difference
from Vasquez is, we shall see when we analyse the
chapter : but he at once states that he has no differ-
ence with that theologian on the question immediately
before us ; on the intrinsic virtue or vice of those acts,
which fall under the Natural Law.
What then are those statements, which may be
supposed as put forth by Vasquez, and to which
Suarez expresses his complete assent ? Such as the
following : —
" Sunt aliquse actiones ita intrinsecd malse ex naturd sud, ut
nullo modo pendeant in malitia ex Prohibitione extrinsecd nee ex
Judicio vel Voluntate Divind .... Quod suppono ex communi
sententid theologorum .... Ratio est, quia actus morales habent
suas intrinsecas naturas et essentias immutabiles, quae non pendent
a Causa vel Voluntate extrinsecd, magis quam alias rerum esscntice,
quce per se non implicant contradictionem." — (Ibid. n. 2.)
Again : —
" Sicut essentise rerum, quatenus non implicant contradic-
tionem, sunt tales vel tales in esse essentise, ex se et ante omnem
causalitatem Dei et quasi independent er ab Ipso — ita honestas veri-
tatis et turpitudo mendacii talis est ex se et secundum aternam
veritatem." — (n. 4.)
So much, where stating his agreement with Vas-
quez. In the next chapter, while stating his own doc-
trine, he is equally clear : —
" Dictamina rationis naturalis, in quibus hoec lex consistit, sunt
intrinsece necessaria et independentia ab omni voluntate etiam
Divind ; . . . . ut ' Deus est colendus,' ' parentes honorandi,'
'mendacium est pravum et cavendum,' et similia." — (c. vi. n. 1.)
" Etiam in Deo, ad Voluntatem antecedit, secundum rationem,
Judicium mentis indicans mentiri esse maluni, servare promissum
esse omnino rectum et necessarium." — (c. vi. n. 6.)
Again, having explained that the Natural Law refers
434 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
properly to God's Command, and not to the intrinsic
rectitude or pravity of acts, he proceeds : —
" Hsec Dei Voluntas, Prohibitio aut Praeceptio, non est tota
ratio bonitatis et malitice quse est in observatione vel transgressione
Legis Naturalis, sed supponit in ipsis actibus necessariam quamdam
honestatem vel turpitudinem ; et illis adjungit specialem Legis
Divinse Obligationem. Hsec assertio .... colligitur ex illo com-
muni axiomate theologorum, qusedam mala esse prohibita quia
mala; si enim prohibentur quia mala, non possunt primam ra-
tionem malitice accipere a Prohibitione. (c. vi. n. 11.) ....
" Secundum ordinem rationis [mendacium] prius est actus malus
quam prohibitus per propriam Legem." — ( c. vi. n. 14.)
Lastly : —
" Respondeo, in actu humano esse aliquam bonitatem vel
malitiam, ex vi objecti prcecise spectati ut est consonum vel dis-
sonum rationi rectce ; et secundum earn posse denominari et malum,
et peccatum, et culpabilem, secundum illos respectus, seclusd habi-
tudine ad propriam Legem. Prseter hanc vero, liabet actus hu-
manus specialem rationem boni et mali in ordine ad Deum, addita
Divind Lege prohibente vel prcecipiente" — (c. vi. n. 17.)
Let us now proceed to our promised analysis of the
two chapters.
4 It is said that the Natural Law is nothing else
' than the rational nature. But this may be held in
' two senses : —
c First, it may be held that the Natural Law is
4 nothing else than the rational nature, according to
4 that sense of the latter phrase, in which we say that
' things intrinsecally good are conformable to the ra-
' tional nature, and things intrinsecally evil repugnant
' to it.
c In another sense it may be said that the Natural
4 Law is our rational nature, meaning thereby that the
' discernment of duty, which appertains to the rational
4 nature, is the very promulgation of the Natural Law.
4 (c. 5, n. 1.)
4 Vasquez holds the proposition in the former sense ;
4 and though he quotes no authorities in behalf of his
4 statement, something may be said in its behalf on
4 grounds of Reason. First, as theologians commonly
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 435
1 admit, certain acts are intrinsecally right or intrinse-
4 cally wrong. Yet they must be right from conformity
c with some law or other, and not from mere conformity
6 with our judgment. But they are right from con-
4 formity with our rational nature ; hence our rational
4 nature is a real law. But if it be any law, then
4 plainly it is the Natural Law.
4 Secondly, these acts are right, antecedently to any
4 judgment formed concerning them by God : hence the
' obligation to perform them, that is the Natural Law,
4 cannot come from God : what else therefore can it be,
4 except our rational nature ? (nn. 2-4.)*
4 Now I quite agree with Vasquez in all that he
4 says about the intrinsic obligation of acts ; yet I can-
* not agree with his conclusion.
' First, theologians and philosophers do not in
* general so express themselves. Secondly, a law
* should give command, light, and direction ; but the
' rational nature (in Vasquez' sense) does not give
c command, light, or direction. Thirdly, there can be
* no law, properly so called, without the will of some
' one giving command, (n. 5.)
In the third reason I anticipate c. 6. n. 1 ; ' Lex
enim propria et praBceptiva non est, sine voluntate
alicujus pracipientis.' To proceed however with our
analysis :
4 Besides, see what consequences would follow. It
4 would follow in the first place, that God is no less
4 subject to the Natural Law than we are : for in God
4 also, as well as in man, to act viciously would be to
4 act against His Nature. If therefore this fact suffices
* in our case to constitute our nature as a law to us, it
4 would no less constitute God's Nature as a Law to
4 Him. And it would follow in the second place, that
4 to us the Natural Law would not be a Divine law at
4 all. (nn. 7, 8.)
4 The common doctrine of theologians therefore is,
' that our rational nature in the second sense is the
* I have omitted as irrelevant the third reason suggested by Suarez in
Vasquez' behalf.
436 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
4 Natural Law' (lie means, is the promulgation to us of
the Natural Law) ; ' for by our rational nature, in this
4 sense, the human will receives command or prohibi-
' tion, as to ' quod agendum est ex naturali jure/ (c. 5,
4 n. 9.) 4 This view may be supported by Scripture,
4 Fathers, and Reason, (nn. 10-15.)
4 But here wre come to a great difficulty. For
' those things which the light of Reason thus dictates,
4 as ' Deus est colendus,' ' parentes sunt honorandi,'
4 and the like, are truths independent even of the
4 Divine Will. If then the mere light of Reason be
4 the promulgation of the Natural Law, how can that
4 Law be in any strict sense a law at all? for the light
4 of Reason does not make known to us (it may be
4 said) the command of any Superior, but only the
' intrinsic virtuousness or viciousness of certain acts.
4 (c. 6. nn. 1, 2.)
' Some theologians have accepted this consequence :
4 they have said that the Natural Law is not in strict-
4 ness a law ; is not the command of any superior ; but
4 only an inherent light, teaching us what is intrinse-
4 cally good. It is a * lex indicans,' but not a 4 lex
* praecipiens.' ' (n. 3.)
It would seem, though Suarez does not advert to
it, that this is precisely Vasquez' view. To proceed
however with the Doctor Eximius.
' An extremely opposite view has been taken by
4 some other theologians; who maintain that the Na-
4 tural Law is simply a collection of Commands, im-
4 posed by God as the Author and Governor of our
* nature.
4 These theologians say, that the whole distinction
c between good and evil turns on the Will of God ; and
4 that God does not command a thing because it is in-
4 trinsecally good, but on the contrary it is intrinse-
4 cally good because He commands it.' (n. 4.)*
* ' Qui etiam addunt totam rationem boni et mali, in rebus ad legem
naturae pertinentibus, positam esse in Voluntate Dei : et non in judicio
rationis, etiam Ipsius Dei ; neque in rebus ipsis, quee per talem legem
vetantur aut preecipiuntur.'
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 437
' I am satisfied with neither opinion ; and therefore
4 judge that a middle course should be held, which I
* think is the opinion of St. Thomas and the common
1 one of theologians.*
6 I say then first [against the first opinion] the (pro-
4 mulgation of the) Natural Law is not merely a point-
4 ing out of the intrinsic good and evil contained in
' actions, but contains an express Command of good
4 and Prohibition of evil on God's part. (n. 5.)
4 This I prove by two arguments. First, a pos-
' teriori ; otherwise the Natural Law would not pro-
4 perly be a law. Secondly, a priori, because Reason
4 itself, in recognising a Holy God, recognises e.g. His
* Prohibition of things intrinsecally evil.' (nn. 6-10.)
We have developed this latter reason in n. 48*,
p. 105*.
4 I say secondly [against the second opinion] this
4 Prohibition or Command of God, given in the Natural
4 Law, supposes a certain necessary virtuousness or base-
4 ness in the acts themselves ; and adds to those acts the
4 special obligation of a Divine Law.'f (n. 11.)
4 The former part of this statement, (viz. that the
* acts themselves have intrinsic virtuousness or baseness
4 necessarily inhering,) is implied in that axiom of theo-
4 logians, that some evils are 4 prohibita quia mala ;' and
4 is quite evident indeed from the arguments suggested
4 in behalf of Vasquez' doctrine. The second part of
4 this statement, (viz. that the Natural Law adds a special
4 obligation in addition to this intrinsic virtuousness or
4 baseness,) follows upon what has already been said. I
* have shewn that the Natural Law is a real Divine Law ;
4 therefore it must add some obligation. Nor is there
4 any imaginable repugnance in the idea, that a new
4 obligation may be added, where one already exists.
< (nn. 11, 12.)
4 I say therefore thirdly (recapitulating what has
* ' Mihi vero neutra sententia satisfacit ; et ideo mediam viam tenen-
dam censeo, quam existimo esse sententiam D. Thoinso et communem
theologorum.' (n. 5.)
t See quotation already given in p. 434.
438 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
4 preceded) that the Natural Law is a true law, God
4 being Legislator. Yet it supposes a judgment in God,
4 that the aets commanded by the Natural Law are
4 conformable, and the acts forbidden by it are repug-
* nant, to our rational nature : to which judgment of
4 God, this Natural Law adds an act of His Will,
6 obliging men to observe that which right Eeason
4 dictates.* (n. 13.)
4 Now to consider the arguments in favour of the
4 two opinions which I reject. Their consideration will
4 turn entirely on this hypothetical statement; " even
' though God did not prohibit or command those things
4 which belong to the Natural Law, nevertheless to lie is
4 evil, and to honour parents good and obligatory." In
4 regard to which hypothetical statement, I must con-
4 sider two things : First, what would follow from such
4 a hypothesis ? Secondly, is the hypothesis a possible
4 one?' (n. 14.)
We omit his statements of other opinions in nn.
15 and 16, and come to his own in n. 17. ' As to the
' first question, I make this answer. In a human action
4 there is a certain goodness or badness from the object
' considered precisely ; and according to this (badness)
4 it may be called an evil, a sin, culpable^ without any
4 relation to a law properly so called.^. Besides this
' badness, a human act has a special quality of good or
4 bad in relation to God, from the Divine Law being
4 added which commands or prohibits it. (nn. 17-19.)
4 As to the second question, — whether the hypothesis
* ' Unde probandum non est, quod doctores posteriori loco allegati
dicunt, Voluntatem Divinam, qua lex naturalis sancitur, non supponere
dictamen Divinse Rationis dictantis, hoc esse honestum vel turpe ; neque
Voluntatem illam Dei [non] supponere in objecto intrinsecam convenientiam
vel disconvenientiam ad naturam rationalem, ratione cujus vult unum fieri
et aliud vetari: constat, enim, ex dictis in secunda conclusione, hocfcdsum
esse et contra rationem Legis Naturalis. Quamvis ergo obligatio ilia quam
addit Lex Naturalis, ut proprie preeceptiva est, sit ex Voluntate Divina,
tamen ilia Voluntas supponit judicium de malitid, verbi gratici, mendacii et
similium : tamen, quia ex vi soliusjudicii non inducitur propria Prohibitio,
vel obligatio Prcecepti, quia hoc sine voluntate intelligi non potest, ideo
adjungitur Voluntas prohibendi illud, quia malum est.' (cap. 6, n. 13.)
t For the distinction of these three phrases, see a passage quoted from
Vasquez, post, note to n. 200, p. 461.
$ 'Malum, peccatum culpabile, seclusa habitudine ad propriam^ew?.'
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 439
4 is a possible one (that God should not prohibit or com-
4 mand those things which are in themselves evil or
'obligatory respectively) — there are two opinions.
4 First, that it is impossible ' de Dei Potentia Ordinata,'
4 but not 4 Absoluta ;' secondly, that it is impossible
4 even ' de Dei Potentia Absolut^.' This latter is
4 plainly St. Thomas's opinion, and I follow it. It
4 would be contrary to the very Attributes of a Holy
4 and Wise Creator, if He did not impose such an
4 obligation on His rational creatures. You may object,
4 that God's Will is free in all external actions ; but I
4 reply with Cajetan, not altogether so. He is free e.g.
4 to make or not to make a promise ; but if He does
4 make one, He is necessitated to keep it : He is free
4 to make or not to make a revelation ; but if He do
4 make one, He is necessitated to reveal truth. And
4 in a way precisely similar, He is free to create or not
4 to create rational persons ; but if He do create them,
4 He is necessitated to impose on them the obligations
4 of the Natural Law. (nn. 21, 23.) *
4 A second objection may be made ; viz. that pro-
4 mulgation is essential to a law properly so called.
4 Now God is certainly free, it may be said, as to
4 whether He will or will not promulgate His Command,
4 that men shall act conformably with Reason ; and
4 therefore it still remains, that He is free whether He
4 shall or shall not impose the Natural Law. But I
4 reply, that He is necessitated to promulgate such a
6 Law; for if He be necessitated to enact it, He must
* be necessitated to promulgate it. And He has in
' fact promulgated it, by the fact already mentioned ;
' the fact, viz. that Reason alone suffices to shew us
4 His Will in this particular.'!
* See quotation already given in the note to n. 48*, p. 106*, " Dico
igitur ex Cajetano," &c.
t Hac de causa per lumen uaturale cognoscitur, Deum offendi peccatis
quae contra Legem Naturalem fiunt, et ad Ipsum pertincre illorum punitionem
et judicium. Ergo ipsum naturale lumen est de se sufficiens promulgatio
Legis Naturalis : non solum quia manifestat intrinsecam disconvenientiam
vel convenientiam actuum, quam lumen Dei increatum ostendit ; sed etiani
quia intimat homini, contrarias actiones displicere Auctori natures, tanquam
440 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
I would beg you to read carefully these two chapters
of Suarez ; and see whether I have not represented him
with perfect faithfulness. *
It is quite impossible then to doubt his meaning.
His immediate subject is not morality but law ; and it
is a very important matter therefore, from his point of
view, to oppose Yasquez's opinion, that the Natural
Law is not strictly a law imposed by God's Will. Yet
with all his earnest opposition to Vasquez, never for a
moment does he lose sight of the great truth, that the
acts, prohibited by the Natural Law, are also inde-
pendently wrong ; and would be ' mala, peccata, culpa-
bilia,' (c. 6. n. 17), even though that Law did not exist.
In Suarez's judgment then, no less certainly than
in Vasquez's, there is an obligatory Rule of human
action, quite independently of the Divine Command :
the only difference is, that, according to Suarez, this
Rule is not precisely the Natural Law. At the same
time, Suarez himself, in another part of the same Book
in the * De Legibus,' does not hesitate to call this Rule
c Lex ostensiva naturalis rationis :' see the quotation in
p. 177 of this volume.
189. Vasquez, as is evident from what has preceded,
will be found even more emphatic than Suarez him-
self, in declaring that the intrinsic wickedness of vice
does not arise from God's Prohibition ; but that on the
contrary God's Prohibition of it arises from its intrinsic
wickedness. One citation then will suffice, from that
chapter of his which Suarez quotes : —
Si vero sermo sit de Lege Naturali, qose suapte m natura
constare dicitur non autem placito aut alicujus voluntate, aliter
dicendum est. Cum enim lex aut jus sit regula cui sequari
debent actiones ut justse sint, Naturalis Lex aut naturale jus erit
regula naturalis, quse nulld voluntate sed suapte natura constat.
Porro talem esse aliquam legem aut jus, quod nulla voluntate etiam
Supremo Domino, et Curator!, ac Gubernatori, ejusdem naturae, (cap. 6,
n. 24.)
* Suarez' "De Legibus" is a book so commonly met with, and I have
been obliged, as it is, to make so many extracts from it, that I have not
thought it necessary to swell the bulk of my volume by copying the entire
chapters.
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 441
Dei constitutum sit, illud maxim6 confirmat quod superius dixi-
mus (disp. 97, c. 3); nempe quaedam ita&c se mala et peccata esse,
ut ex nulld voluntate etiam Dei eorum prohibitio pendeat : id quod ;i
nobis satis superque probatum est. Nee solum hoc ita esse osten-
dimus, verum etiam monstravimus, multa ita esse ex se mala, ut
eorum malitia prcecedat, secundum rationem, omne indicium Divini
Intellectus ; hoc est, non ideo sint mala quia mala judicantur k
Deo, quin potius ideo talia judicentur quia ex se taliasunt. Ex quo
illud efficitur, ut ante omnein Dei Voluntatem et Imperium, imo
etiam ante omne Judicium, aliqua ex se sint bona opera vel mala ;
ut ibidem monstratum est. Cumque omne bonum vel malum
per ordinem ad reyulam aliquam dicatur bonum vel malum,
justum vel injustum, consequens fit, ut ante omne imperium,
ante omnem voluntatem, imo ante omne judicium, sit regula quce-
dam harum actionum, qua sudpte naturd constet, sicut res omnes
su&pte natura contradictionem non implicant. Haec autem non
potest alia esse, quam ipsamet rationalis natura, ex se non im-
plicans contradictionem ; cui, tanquam regulse et juri natural i,
bona3 actiones conveniunt et sequantur, malaB autem dissonant
et insequales sunt: quamobrem et ilia? bonas, has autem mala?,
dicuntur" (in lm 2ffi d. 150, nn. 22, 23).
190. Lessius is equally clear with Suarez and Vas-
quez. We are not here concerned with the conclusion
which he is labouring to prove ; on which however I
shall speak before we close the Section. What we
are here concerned with however, are the principles
which he assumes as undoubted, in order to establish
his conclusion. He assumes two principles. First,
that sin cannot become mortal, i. e. cannot deserve an
Eternity of punishment, unless so far as it is against
ihe Commandment of God. Secondly, he assumes, —
and this it is with which we are here concerned, — that
even if, * per impossibile,' there were no Divine Law,
nay and no God, yet that there would remain intrinsic
morality ; and that offences against that morality would
be sins, though not mortal ones.
Thus :—
" Ex quibus sequitur primo, Si nullus esset Deus, nullum
fore peccatum vere et proprie mortiferum, sed omnia fore veni-
alia: quia carebunt ilia malitia, qua) spectatur in ordine ad
Deum." — De Perfectionibus Divinis} lib. xiii. n. 186.
Offences would then still be 'peccata,' but 4venialia.T
442 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Again : —
" Sequitur secundo, Nullum etiam fore peccatum mortiferum,
si Deus peccata non prohibuisset, saltern per Legem Naturae menti-
bus hominum insculptam : quod intellige de peccatis, quae per se
non continent Dei contemptum. Si enim peccata non essent a
Deo ita prohibita, ut homines intuitu Dei seu reverentiae Divinae
tenerentur ilia vitare, non censerentur Deum contemnere, vel
injuriam irrogare, patrando peccata; sed solum naturam suam
dedecorare et contra rectam rationem agere. Verum sicut impos-
sibile est, ut actus liber reetce rationi repugnans non sit prohibitus a
Deo, ita etiam impossibile est ut non sit peccatum mortiferum, si
sit in re gravi ab homine Deum aliquo modo cognoscente. Dices :
' Furtum, adulterium, perjurium, et similia, quas sunt contra
f Legem Naturae, non ideo mala sunt quia prohibita Lege Naturae,
' sed ideo sunt prohibita quia mala: ideo enim Ratio Naturalis et
f Lex ^Eterna dictat ilia esse fugienda, quia in se mala sunt. Unde
' prius est ilia esse mala quam esse prohibita, et malitia praevenit
6 Prohibitionem : ergo etiam si fingamus non esse prohibita, retine-
( bunt tamen suam malitiam.' Respondeo, ante omnem Prohi-
bitionem considerari in illis quam dam malitiam objectivam et
materialem, quatenus isti actus sunt dissoni naturae rationali, ita
ut non possint recte appeti, nee recte fieri, ab eo qui ratione utitur.
Potest etiam in illis considerari quasdam malitia formalis, quatenus
fiunt ab aliquo libere contra regulam reetce rationis : haac tamen per
se non est mortifera, ut ostensum est. Unde non potest in istis acti-
bus considerari malitia mortifera, nisi sint contra Legem Divinam;
ita ut Divina Auctoritas per ilia censeatur contemni, et homo a
Deo averti: quo fit ut prius sit actum esse prohibitum Lege
Divina, quam esse formaliter peccatum mortale ; cum peccatum
mortale constituatur per Legis Divinae contemptum." — Ibid.
n. 187.
191. I next turn to Lugo : —
(< Praeceptum diligendi Deum est omnino de Jure Natures ; et
obligareti secluso quovis Dei Decreto; ut omnes concedunt." — De
Penitentid, d. 7, n. 250.
Lugo considers it as conceded by all, that a Precept
of the Natural Law obliges, apart from any Decree or
Command of God whatever.
We will next dwell for some little time on Lugo's
remarks, concerning a subject similar to that which
Lessius was treating. And here again we are not
concerned with the conclusion which he is advocating,
but with the principles which he takes for granted as
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 443
tending to that conclusion. Lugo is considering this
question. Suppose (per possibile vel impossible) that
a man committed murder, or did any other act which
he should know to be contrary to Right Reason ; but in
regard to which he should be invincibly ignorant or in-
advertent, that it is prohibited by Almighty God.
Lugo is inquiring whether, in such a case, the sin would
be mortal, i.e. deserve Eternal Punishment; and whether
it would be such, that no mere man could pay for it
condign satisfaction.
"Cum dixerimus cum communi thcologorum, impotentiam
satisfaciendi pro peccato mortal! provenire in homine puro ex
Magnitudine seu Infinitate Dei Offensi, consequens videtur, quod,
ubi non interveniat hsec ratio Offensae Divinae, non sit etiam
ilia omnimoda incompensabilitas. Cum ergo ille, qui non sciret
Deum offendi suo peccato,(vel quia invincibiliter ignorat esseDeum,
vel quia invincibiliter existimat Deum nihil curare de probitate aut
improbitate hominum,) hie non contraheret in suo peccato malitiam
illam Offensionis Divinae." — De Incamatione, disp. 5, n. 69.
It is plain that the consideration of this question, is
eminently calculated to exhibit in the clearest light the
doctrine held, whether by Lugo himself or by the
various theologians whom he cites, on the relation
between God and Moral Truth. The following are
among his remarks : —
" De hoc dubio in hoc sensu theologi antiqui non satis distincte
loquuntur. Ex recentioribus vero aliqui illud tetigerunt; inter
quos P. Salas,.tom. ii. in 1, 2, tract. 13, disp. 16, sect. 22, refert
sententiam recentiorum, qui dicunt, eo casu illud homicidium
non fore peccatum mortale. Ipse vero in hanc sententiam acriter
invehitur, appellans earn parum tutam et valde perniciosam : quia
ex ea sequitur, de facto plurima homicidia, adulteria, et alia
ejusmodi, esse solum peccata venialia; quia fiunt cum ignorantia,
vel saltern inadvertentia actuali, inculpabili Legis Divina3 : nee
enim homo quoties peccat, recordatur Dei aut Divinse Legis.
"Hanc sententiam Patris Salas,ejus auctoritate ducti,docuemnt
(ut dixi) aliqui recentiores, et pro ea adducunt plures ex anti-
quioribus et recentioribus ; sed sine sufficient fundamento. Nam
ii solum dicunt, illud homicidium adhuc in eo casu fore malum
moraliter, et peccatum ; quod quidem verissimum est, cum adhuc in
eo casu haberet malitiam moralem per oppositionem cum reguld
rationis. Nunc autem non quaerimus an esset peccatum, — sed an
444 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
absque malitia formal! offensse Divina?, quam tune non haberet,
adhuc haberet illam gravitatem, ratione cujus nunc theologi tri-
buunt illi infinitatem quandam et incompensabilitatem." — De
Incarnatione, disp. 5, rm. 71, 72.
Lugo speaks of it as most true (verissimum), that
the mere opposition to c regula rationis,' with invin-
cible ignorance or forgetful ness of God's Law, would
fully suffice to constitute ' malitia moralis ' and c pec-
catum.'
192. Further, Lugo cites, you see, as holding this
precise doctrine, ' plures ex antiquioribus et recentio-
ribus.'
193. Salas, moreover, as here cited by Lugo, con-
siders that acts would be even mortally sinful, which
should offend gravely against Eight Keason, and which
should be committed in invincible ignorance or inad-
vertence of the Divine Prohibition. And in n. 73,
Lugo further quotes Azor and Vega, as apparently
holding the same doctrine. Nay, Salas feels himself
called upon to 'inveigh severely7 against any more
indulgent opinion ; representing any such opinion as
4 parum tuta,' and ' valde perniciosa.'
194. Lugo also proceeds to cite with agreement
Gregory of Ariminum and Gabriel ; ' quateniis dicunt,
quod si per impossibile non esset Deus, adhuc homo
peccare posset:' adding however his own opinion, from
which he does not think they would dissent, that such
sin would not be mortal.
195. Indeed, whoever will read the whole passage
in Lugo, will derive from it the impression, that the
main body of theologians assumed, as a matter of course,
the sinfalness of any such act ; and that the only ques-
tion which they even thought of raising was, whether
they be so deeply sinful, as to merit Eternal Punish-
ment. There are only two theologians, mentioned by
him through the whole course of his argument, who
maintain that such acts are not sinful; and those are
the very two, whom alone (as we shall find) Viva is
able to cite for the same purpose : Zumel and Curiel.
These two theologians undoubtedly, but these alone,
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 445
are represented by Lugo as holding the opinion, that
moral obligation implies the Command of a Superior.
' Ratio naturalist they say, 4 non habet vim obligandi,
nisi ut vicaria Legislatoris.' * Qui auctores,' Lugo
proceeds, 'licet non placeant mihi quatenus dicunt illud
non fore peccatum in eo casu nee malum morale,1 — in
the case, viz. where there should be invincible ignorance
of God, — * placent tamen quateniis dicunt non fore . . .
peccatum mortals? (n. 77.)
196. I shall next adduce Coninck, a scholastic of
great name ; who is thus quoted textually by Lugo,
in the same disputation of the " De Incarnatione :"-
" Si enim furtum v. c. nullo modo a Deo prohiberetur sive
displiceret quantum vis pergeret, non minus quam modb repugnaret
justitia; tamen nullo modo mereretur pcenam aeternam, et con-
sequenter non contraheret omnem malitiam quam modb contrahit."
— Lugo de Incarnatione, disp. 5. n, 76.
If theft were not prohibited by God, it would not
contract all the badness which it now contracts ; there-
fore, in Coninck's opinion, it would contract some.
197. Bellarmine is also sufficiently plain : —
" Actiones qusedam ita sunt per se atque intrinsece maloe, ut
deformitas ab eis sit omnino inseparabilis ; et proliibita sint quia
malse, non malae quia prohibitae; ac denique nullo modo bene fieri
possint : quales sunt, mentiri, odisse Deum, et alia id genus." —
De Amiss. Grat. lib. ii. c. 11, n. 5.
Again,—
"Si fingamus Deum non esse in rerum natura; — qui leges
justas violabunt, peccabunt quidem in conscientid, sed nee Deum
offendent, nee ad inieros damnabuntur." — De Summo Pontifice, 1.
iv. c. 23, n. 7.
198. F. Compton Carleton, S. J., whom I have
already quoted in a note, devotes to the matter an
entire Section, which shall here follow: —
" Multa ideo esse peccata quia prohibentur, nemini dubium
esse potest; ilia nimirum, quae ex se sunt indifferentia, ac proinde
ideo solum sunt illicita, quia lex aliqua vel prseceptum ea fieri
vetat. Sic Judaeis olim vetitum erat carnem porcinam comedere :
sic modo in Ecclesia prohibitum est diebus veneris et Tsabbati vesci
carnibus ; quod proinde sine dispensatione aut legitima causa facere
G G
446 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
est peccatum. Quserimus itaque in praesenti, utrum omnia omnino
peccata, ideo peccata sint, quia hujusmodi lege prohibita; ita ut
si Lex non esset, similiter non esset malum morale nee peccatum.
" Ratio dubitandi est; hie enira loquendi modus SanctisPatribus
frequens est: sic enim Sanctus Augustinus contra Faustum, lib. 22,
cap. 27, ait peccatum esse ' dictum, factum vel concupitum contra
Legem Dei:' item de peccatorum meritis et remissione 1. 2, c. 16.
'Neque peccatum erit,' inquit, <si non divinitus jubeatur ut non
sit.' Idem insinuare videtur Sacra Scriptura ; sic enim ad Rom.
4. v. 15, dicitur : ' Ubi non est lex, ibi nee prsevaricatio.' Ergo de
essentia omnis peccati videtur, ut sit contra Legem. Quare
Joannis primae, cap. 3, v. 4, peccatum vocatur 'iniquitas' grsece
avoftta ; quod idem sonat, ac deviatio a lege.
" Propter haec asserunt nonnulli, peccatum omne ideo esse
malum quia a Deo est prohibitum. Ita Gerson 3, p. tract, de vita
spiritual!, lect. 1, coroll. 10 ; Sanctus Bonaventura in 2 dist. 34,
dub. 4 ; Okam in 2, Quodlib. 19, ad dubium 3 et 4 ; et Victoria,
et alii. Sed contra : qusedam enim sunt peccata adeo mala, et ex
se et objecto turpia, (qualia sunt odium Dei, blasphemia, et alia
hujusmodi), ut non possint non esse mala ; sicque independenter,
imb antecedenter, ad omnem Prohibitionem : quis enim non videt,
aeque malum ac Deo injuriosum esse Eum odisse, atque Ejus
Legem contemnere : Ergo malitia odii Dei non dependet & Prohibi-
tione illius actus; sed ante omnem Prohibitionem et Legem hie
actus est mains. Quse ratio urget, etiamsi quis hunc et similes
actus dicat necessario prohiberi a Deo ; de quo postea.
" Lorca ergo hie, d. 10 ; Salas 1. 2, q. 18, tr. 7, d. 3, sect. 1 ; et
alii nonnulli dicunt, omne peccatum esse malum quia prohibitum,
non actu illo Voluntatis Divinse de quo prior sententia, sed lege,
ut aiunt, judicante ; seu quia est contra Legem JEternam, Actum
scilicet Intellect us Divini, necessario in eo existentem, quo judicat
hsec et hujusmodi esse mala. Sed contra : non enim ideo pec-
catum, odium Dei exempli gratia, est malum quia cognoscitur
seu judicatur a Deo esse malum; sed e contra: ideo judicatur esse
malum) quia est malum. Deinde Lex ^Eterna juxta S. Augustinum
contra Faustum supra, 6 Est Ratio vel Yoluntas Dei, ordinem
naturalem conservari jubens, perturbari vetans/ Ergo hujusmodi
actus necessarius Intellectus Divini non est lex proprie dicta, sed
Lex est Actus Voluntatis, quo libere aliquid prsecipit aut prohibet.
Eodem modo impugnatur id quod dicunt alii ; ideo scilicet pec-
catum esse malum., quia Deus habet Voluntatem, qua sibi de objecto
illo displicet: prius enim est malum, quam Deus illud aversetur\
unde etiamsi homo tendat solum in illud objectum, et non prout
displicet Deo, adhuc actus erit malus. Deinde quis non videt
longe gravius esse et recta? rationi mag\s dissonum, Deum odisse,
quam aliquid facere quod ei novit displwere.
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 447
" Breviter itaque existimo. Licet omnia mala aliquo modo sint
contra legem, quia scilicet sunt contra dictamen rectae rationis ; non
tamen propterea proprib dici possunt esse contra Legem, nee mala
semper quia prohibita. Ita Scotus in 34, q. l,ar. 2 ; Durandus in
1, dist. 47, q. 4; Suarez lib. 2, de legibus, c. 6, n. 11 ; Vasquez
hie d. 97, c. 3; Lessius de Perfectionibus Divinis, c. 13. n. 186;
Tannerus, disp. 4, q. 1, dub. 4; et alii passim.
" Prima Conclusionis pars probatur. Per conformitatem siqui-
dem aut difformitatem ad rectam Rationem, judicant omnes quid
bonum sit, quid malum, sicut (juodammodo per legem : de qua
proinde locutus videtur Apostol. ad Rom. 2, v. 4, dum dicit ;
'Cum enim gentes quae Legem non habent, naturaliter ea quae
Legis sunt faciunt, ipsi sibi sunt lex.' Id est ipsorum natura, seu
ratio, iis est lex, non scripta, sed nata, vel a natura omnibus insita
et in scripta.
" Secundaetiam pars probatur: dictamen siquidem rectae Ratio-
nis non est proprie lex; cum Deus hoc perfectissime habeat, Quern
tamen S. Thomas hie q. 93, ar. 4. et alii affirmant legem proprie
dictam non habere.
" Tertia tandem pars, quod scilicet omnia mala non ideo mala
sint quia prohibita : Probatur primo : Jam enim ostendimus, odium
Dei ex .se, et independenter ab omni Prohibitione et Lege, esse
malum, et ration! difforme ; imb multb magis, quam sit Legi a Deo
lata non obedire. Secundo : nam S. Augustinus lib. 1, de
Libero Arbitrio, cap. 3, approbat illud commune, 'aliqua' scilicet
'mala esse quia prohibita, alia prohibita quia mala/ Tandem
sicut ad hoc ut actus aliquis sit bonus, nullo alio est opus, quam
ut feratur in objectum bonum, propositum ut bonum, absque ulla
notitia Legis ^Eternas, sive consulentis sive approbantis ; ita et ut
actus sit malus, sufficit quod feratur in objectum malum, sine
ulla legis, vel judicantis, vel prohibentis, cognitione.
" Dices : ' peccare in Physicis est deviare a regula ; sic artifex
peccat deviando a regulis artis: ergo et peccare in moral ibus erit
deviare a regulis moris.' Respondetur, peccare esse deviare k
regula, non formali, sed fundamental! ; seu facere id, quod est
materialiter contra legem, et regulas, vel artis vel moris, seu
quod per hujusmodi regulas argui et reprobari potest.
" Per haec responsio patet ad testimonia supra- num. 2 al lata.
Apostolus enim vel loquitur de peculiari ilia transgressione, quaa
proveniebat Judaeis ex cognitione special! legis scriptic, a Deo
ipsis immediate traditae ; ratione cujus, peculiaris malitia, turn ob
perfectiorem cogm'tionem turn ob ingratitudinem, in actus eorum
peccaminosos refundebatur. Vel loquitur de lege improprie dicta
seu dictamine rectae rationis, de quo suprk. Non tamen res sunt
males, quia recta Ratio hoc dictat, sed ideb hoc dictat ratio quia sunt
malce: ut ostensum est Tertio intelligi potest de lege funda-
*
448 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
mentali, seu ipsa natura rational! ; in ordine ad quam, in materia
de actibus humanis dixi desumendam esse bonitatem et malitiam
actuum moralium. Quarto forte loquitur de Lege JEterna, seu
judicante: qua tamen non est ratio a priori malitice, sed a poste-
riori sol urn, vel concomitanter, et tanquam a regula vel indicio.
Quibus etiam de causis peccatum dicitur avopiot,.* Et eodem modo
explicari potest Sanctus Augustinus et alii Patres, dum peccatum
dicunt esse contra Legem.
(( Ut vero in re hac per se obscura clarius procedamus, varise
legis acceptiones semper prse oculis habendse. Primo itaque lex
sumitur pro Lege Sterna, seu judicante ut vocant ; qua? est Actus
necessarius Divini Intellects, quo ab seterno judicat vel indicat
hoc esse bonum et amplectendum, illud malum et fugiendum.
Secundo pro ipsa natura rationali, qua? est quaadam regula, in
ordine ad quam dignoscimus, quid bonum sit, quid malum; secun-
dum convenientiam scilicet vel disconvenientiam, quam res aliqua
cum tali natura habet. Ha?c tamen soliim vocatur lex seu regula
fundamental is. Tertio lex pro ipsis rebus pra?ceptis vel prohibitis
accipitur; sicut fides subinde pro rebus creditis. Quarto pro
dictamine recta? rationis, prout hie et mine judicat, quid amplec-
tendum sit, quid fugiendum.
" Quinto denique et propriissime sumitur lex, prolibera volun-
tate superioris, legitime intimata ; qualis fuit Lex scripta, Judseis
tradita ; et aliae hujusmodi. De hac itaque Lege seu Voluntate in
prsesenti est sermo: quam Voluntatem, etsi secundum communem
Theologorum sententiam, de facto Deus hominibus manifestaverit,
— (vel initio primis pareritibus, vel per revelationes aut effectus
quosdam externos, per quos hominibus ostendit Se esse et Re-
muneratorem esse, tarn bonorum quam malorum, quod est habere
Voluntatem, qua mala prohibet, et non vult ea fieri ; vel tandem
hanc voluntatem unicuique intimat per lumen ipsum rationis hoc
dictantis:) — esto inquam haac ita sint, dicimus tamen non omnia
ideb esse mala, quia Deus ea per hanc Voluntatem prohibet ; sed e
contra : in iis quse sunt intrinsece mala, ideb ea Deus prohibet, quia
sunt mala" — Cursus Theologicus, torn. i. disp. 101, sect. n. 1-12.
199. I shall confine my citations to those theo-
logians, on whose doctrine no possible doubt can be
raised. And I will proceed next to the Augustinian
Berti.
" Quidquid prohibet Lex Natura?, est natura sua et intrinsece
malum ; et quidquid prsecipit, est natura sua et intrinsece bonum :
quod sane ipsa Naturalis Legis notio manifeste declarat. At Deus
* The passages of St. Paul and St. John will be of course considered
in our Second Book, where we are to treat the subject theologically.
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 449
non potest imperare quod suapte natura malum cst; ut odium,
mendacium, blasphemiam : neque potest prohibere quod intrinscc6
suaque natura bonum est; ut justitiam, pietatem, religionein. Si
enim ilia praecipere, hoec prohibere posset, posset etiam agere
qua) cum summa jEquitate ac Sapientia, atque cum essentiA,
creaturae rationalis repugnant; atque ita poterit mentiri, poterit
ad peccatum impellere. . . . Precepta Legis Naturalis, alia sunt
affirmativa, quae justa opera imponunt; alia negativa, quae prohi-
bent perversa et iniqua. Atqui Deus non potest dispensare in iis
qua? recta sunt ; alias discinderet Legein jEternam : . . . neque in iis
quae sunt inhonesta et iniqua ; alias permitteret ut peccaremus im-
pune." — De Theologicis Disciplinis, 1. 20, c. 5, prop. 3.
You see, according to Berti's doctrine, if (per im-
possibile) God were to dispense in the Natural Law, we
should nevertheless sin (peccaremus) in violating the
duties which it prescribes. And, in order to prove that
God cannot dispense in it, Berti urges as a 4 reductio
ad absurdum,' that on that hypothesis such sin would
be committed with impunity. According to Berti then,
there may imaginably be real sin, without God's Pro-
hibition.
200. Lastly, we will take a specimen from the
Scotists. Frassen treats the subject as follows : —
" Dices secundo : ' Lex Naturalis non facit obligationem, sed
' supponit : Ergo obligatio non est ejus effectus. Antecedens patet
' ex dictis ; nam Lex Naturalis in hoc a Lege Positiva distinguitur,
'quod ilia prohibet aliquid, quia malum est; haec vero prohibet
( aliquid, quod sit malum quia est prohibitum. Et idem est cum
' proportione de imperio et praecepto faciendi bonum quia bonum
< est.'
" Respondeo, cum Suarez, lib. ii. cap. 9, hanc objectionem
nostrse assertionis esse confirmativam : nam, inquit, si Lex haec
prohibet aliquid quia malum, propriam et specialem necessitatem
inducit vitandi illud ; quia hoc iritrinsecum est prohibition!, ut
vitetur quod prohibitum est. Probat etiam hoec objectio, aliquid
hanc Legein supponere, quod pertinet ad intnnsecum debitum
natures; siquidem unaquaeque res quodammodo sibi debet, ut
nihil f'aciat suse naturae dissentaneiun. Ultra verb hoc debitum
etiam Lex Naturalis addit specialem obligationem, moralem, quam
jurisperiti obligationem naturalem appellant." — De Legibus, disp.
2} art. 2, q. 2, concl. prima.
He fully admits then the truth of what is urged
in the objection; viz. that the Natural Law supposes
450 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
an obligation which already exists. In other words,
according to Frassen, there is real moral obligation
anterior to the Natural Law; anterior, that is, to the
Divine Command.
Elsewhere he states the same thing directly.
" Deus in Lege Natural! aliquam obligationem ex parte rerum
supponit, quse videtur essentialis ipsis rebus, quia honestae sunt et
bonse ex naturd rei. Nam, ut supra diximus, hoc est discrimen
inter Legem Naturalem et Positivam, quod Lex Naturalis prsecipit
ea, qua per se honesta sunt et bona ; prohibet autem, quce per se
mala sunt" — Ibid. 4. art. 3. q. 1.
201. We have now therefore collected, sufficiently
for our purpose, the judgment of theologians; though
we might most easily have continued them indefinitely.
Certainly (to say the very least) it is most permissible
that any Catholic may reject a proposition, which has
such extremely strong testimony against it. I refer of
course to the proposition, that moral obligation implies
the Command of a Superior.
It will have been observed however, that the quo-
tations from Lessius, and the chief of those from Lugo,
occur in arguments, put forth by those writers under
somewhat questionable circumstances. For they are
directed towards a conclusion, which bears some con-
siderable resemblance to the proposition, condemned by
Alexander VIII. after their time, on the subject of
Philosophical Sin. And still more, in looking at that
proposition itself, it might be at first sight supposed by
unwary readers, that the principle of independent mo-
rality is therein censured. I will treat the matter
directly, in reference to the proposition itself; and will
introduce incidentally what it is necessary to say, on
Lessius and Lugo.
The condemned proposition is the following : —
" Peccatum philosophicum sen morale est
actus humanus disconveniens naturae rational!
et rectse ration! : theologicum vero et mortale
est transgressio libera Divinse Legis. Philosophi-
cum, quantiimvis grave, in illo, qui Deum vel
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 451
ignorat, vel de Deo actu non cogitat, est grave
peccatum, sed non est offensa Dei, neque aeternft
poena dignum." — Denzinger, p. 344.
Now there is no fact more undoubtedly certain in
all Theology, than that the first sentence of this pro-
position, which defines the term ' Philosophical oin,'
was never imagined to fall under the Church's censure.
Nothing is more common, in the case of condemned
propositions, than such a procedure as the following.
A statement is selected from some unsound theologian,
which contains the recital of an undoubted premiss ;
and also of some false conclusion, which he sophistically
endeavours to build upon that premiss. The Church
condemns the whole statement, proutjacet: not meaning
of course to throw the slightest discredit on the un-
doubted premiss; but intending to brand (firstly) the
conclusion itself, and (secondly) the allegation, that
such a conclusion can follow from such a premiss. I
repeat, there is no fact more certain in all Theology,
than that this is the case here.
Indeed there is a special reason in this instance, for
inserting the first sentence as well as the second ; viz.
that unless it be so inserted, the very meaning of the
second sentence is wholly unintelligible. The faithful
would have had no way of knowing what the con-
demned writer means by ' Peccatum Philosophicum,'
unless the former sentence had been inserted, in which
he explains such meaning. It was absolutely necessary
that the earlier sentence should be retained, if the
faithful were to understand what is the real assertion
contained in the latter.
The necessity then of retaining that earlier sentence
is most manifest ; and its retention therefore is no kind
of presumption, that its contents were intended to fall
under the Pope's condemnation. Nor indeed did I ever
hear of any theologian who thought that it was so in-
tended. The doctrine that the mere repugnancy to
right Reason suffices to constitute a sin, has never (I say)
been attacked by any Catholic writer of name on this
452 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
ground ; on the ground of the condemned proposition
on Philosophical Sin.* It never has been : and most
certainly it never would be with reason ; as I will now
proceed to shew.
One consideration strikes us on the very surface.
It was but a short time before this censure, that the
Church condemned those other two propositions, which
were cited at the beginning of this Section. Those
were then censured, who refused to admit that certain
definite offences are sinful intrinsecally, apart from
the Divine Prohibition. It would be strange indeed, if
only eleven years afterwards, the whole notion, that
anything whatever could be sinful intrinsecally apart
from the Divine Prohibition, had been condemned in
one sweeping decree. In addition to the inherent
impossibility of such a supposition, we will adduce
three arguments ; any one of which will amply suffice
to shew, that the case is very far otherwise.
(1.) The Pontiff, Alexander VIII., expressly declares
in his decree, that the proposition before us was a new
proposition.f Now no one (I believe) of any opinions
whatever has so much as suggested the notion, that
the intrinsic ' malitia ' of immorality, irrespectively of
God's Will, was a new doctrine in the time of Alexander
VIII. We have seen on the other hand that Suarez
considers it as St. Thomas's, and as the common senti-
ment of theologians. Lugo again represents k< plures ex
antiquioribus et recentioribus," up to his own time, as
undoubtedly maintaining it. And Dmowski tells us,
that those Protestants who object to it, are so far from
calling it new, that they clamour against it as an in-
vention of the Catholic scholastics. J
* For I do not consider ' quelques lecteurs bienveillants' of F. Chastel
(see postea n. 207) to be ' Catholic writers of name ' or ' theologians.'
•J" The decree is given by Viva. ' Sanctissiinus D.N. Alexander Papa
Octavus non sine magno animi sui moerore audivit, duas theses seu
propositiones, unam denuo et in majorem fidelium perniciem suscitari, al-
teram de novo erumpereS It is this second which concerns Philosophical
Sin.
| ' Pufendorfius tanquam inventum scholasticorum respuit differ-
entiam istam moralium actionum, scilicet : . . . . quasdam esse prohibitas
ouia malae et quasdam malas quia prohibitse.'
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 453
(2.) There was at one time a great controversy
raised against the Jesuits, by many who maintained,
that certain Jesuit doctrines lead by necessary con-
sequence to this condemned proposition. Against
which of the Jesuit doctrines was this charge adduced ?
Against the doctrine, that morality is intrinsecally obli-
gatory apart from God's Commandment? So far was
this from being the case, that on the contrary the
independent existence of morality was for the most
part admitted on both sides as a first principle in the
dispute. The Jesuit propositions attacked had reference
to the kind or degree of advertence required in mortal
sin. Every one knows this well, who is at all acquainted
with the controversies of that time ; but one quotation
will put it beyond question. No one will doubt that
F. Buffier, whom we have seen so earnestly contending
for first truths, regarded the first principles of morality
as contained in the class. Now this same F. Buffier
was accused of holding, by implication at least, the error
of Philosophical Sin. In regard to which statement of
his was this charge made ? in regard to any statement
concerning the independent character of morality ?
Nothing of the kind : the statements to which excep-
tion was taken, had not the most distant relation to
any such subject. So far as Philosophical Sin is con-
cerned, the following was the precise disavowal ex-
acted from him ; as related by Serry, in his history of
the congregation " De Auxiliis :'' —
" Secundum hsec nuperrime pronunciavit Illustrissimus Rotho-
magensium Archiepiscopus, dum P. Buffierum Jesuitam, a quo
idem ille Peccati Philosophici insanus error sparse per Nonnan-
niam libello recmus fuerat, solenni decreto damnavit; jussitque
ut scripto publico hisce duabus propositionibus, inter multas alias,
subscriberet, in obsequentis ac poenitentis animi ficlem. 1. Quod
spectat ad Peccatum Philosophicum, damno quod Summus Pon-
tifex Alexander VIII. Decreto suo damnavit 24 Augusti 1690.
Ipse autem privation agnosco (ut Jesuita jam public^ agnoverunt
in sententia sua, publico scripto edita, super Peccato Philosophico,)
non esse necessarium actu attendere animum ad malitiam actionis,
ut peccato imputetur. 2. Obcascati et indurati peccatores, qui
csedes, adulteria, et alia scelera, sine ullo conscientise stimulo
454 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
perpetrant, ne minimi quidem cogitantes hujusmodi sceleribus
offendi a se Deum, aut lisec contraria esse Legi Natural!, nihilo-
minus merentur poenas inferorum : nee quod actu non attendant
ad malitiam actionis, ideo peccati mortalis rei non sunt." (lib. iii.
c. 48.)*
You see the whole charge against him, so far as
Philosophical Sin is concerned, was his maintaining the
necessity of 'advertentia ad malitiam,' in order to
constitute mortal sin.
(3.) Thirdly, consider how absolutely atrocious is
the statement contained in the condemned proposition.
The condemned writer by no means confines his state-
ment to invincible ignorance or invincible inadvertence.
No : according to him, any sinner in the world, whose
will is so utterly alienated from his True End, that
in committing the greatest enormities he forgets his
Creator altogether, — such a sinner is ipso facto exempt
from the guilt and from the penalties of mortal sin.
Can any one credit, that the Pontiff, having so frightful
a proposition to censure, not content with smiting it,
should travel out of his way to pronounce a judgment
on a question most totally distinct ; a question which
no one on either side of the existing controversy had (I
believe) so much as raised ?
Lugo and Lessius were very far indeed from holding
so extreme a position. At the same time I must frankly
profess, that I do regard the doctrine on advertence,
held by them and by some other Jesuits, as leading
by necessary consequence to this condemned propo-
sition.f I hope therefore to argue against that doc-
trine, on this very ground as well as on others, in the
appropriate part of our theological course.
Serry, in the passage immediately preceding that
already quoted, confirms what I have said in the amplest
manner ; declaring that the whole doctrine of Philoso-
phical Sin, both in its first inventor and his followers,
turned wholly on the question of advertence as on a
hinge.
* I believe that F. Buffier refused subscription to these two propo-
sitions.
f Which was condemned, however, after their death.
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 455
"Nemo quippe est qui non vidcat, errorem bunc ab Alex-
andro proscriptum, eo ut monui principio veluti cardine niti, quo
largi illi ac liberales Gratiarum bufficientium distributores iabu-
lantur, nullum re ipsa veri nominis peccatum admitti, nullam-
que Deo offensam inferri aeterna pojnfi plectendam, nisi prawd
illustratione animus perfundatur, internaque excitatione pulsetur
humana voluntas. Imino non alio ilium argumento muniebat, in
dictatis scriptis, Professor Theologus Divionensis, a quo in
publicam Thesium lucem editus est; nee alio principio nitebantur
illi ipsi, quos assertionis sua magistros ac duces proferebat."
Finally, the only commentators on condemned pro-
positions with whom I am acquainted, are these three ;
Van Ranst, Milante^ Viva. Now all these agree, in
either implying or expressly declaring, that our doc-
trine of independent morality is not in any way alluded
to by this condemnation.
Thus Van Ranst : —
" Hac in propositione duo expendenda sunt. Primb supponit
ilia, dari posse ignorantiarn Dei invincibilem, proindeque a peccato
excusantem. Secundo requirit ad theologice peccandum actu-
alem de Deo cogitationem. Primum liquet ex verbis istis, ' philo-
sophicum, quantumvis grave, in illo qui Deum ignorat:' alterum
in sequentibus, * vel de Deo actu non cogitat.'
" Dari non posse ignorantiam invincibilem Dei, asserit hoec
stupenda moles universi, certatim prsedicans, Dei notitiam homini
esse insitam, ingenitam, implantatam, inseminatam. Hoec est vis
Vera3 Divinitatis, inquit Doctorum Aquila (tr. 106 in Joan.), ut
creaturse rationali, jam ratione utenti, non omnino ac penitus
possit abscondi. Adeoque nequit dari ignorantia Dei invincibilis,
et consequenter inculpabilis. Hinc dicitur Ps. Ixxviii. ' Effunde
iram tuam in Gentes, quae te non noverunt;' et tamen cognoscere
potuerunt. Ruit igitur Peccatum Pliilosophicum, quod in pra-
fatd potissimum ignorantid fundabatur.
" CiEterum fuerunt nonnulli, qui ipsum Doctorem Angelicum,
hujus erroris (ut vidimus) prajdebellatorem, in illius patronum
vocare non sunt veriti ; ob ilia, quse habet 2, 2, q. 20, art. 3, in
corp. ' Si posset esse conversio ad bonum commutabile sine aver-
sione a Deo, quamvis esset inordinata, non esset peccatum mortale.'
Sed quis hie non videat, D. Thomam (ut alia ad textum loci
opportuna prseteream) loqui hypothetice? in hypothesi scilicet,
quod detur ignorantia Dei invincibilis? In tali enim suppositione,
peccatum non esset theologicurn (cum ignorantia invincibilis a pec-
cato excuset) sed mete philosophicum.
" 'Bene est,' inquiebant Peccati Philosophici defensores: ' theo-
456 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
* logi nostri defendunt hanc propositionem dumtaxat de Peccato
( Philosophico, si, vel quando, Existentia Dei invincibiliter ignora-
' retur, adeoque in hypothesi jam allegata; proinde nos Alexan-
' drina non involvit condemnation
" Sed quantus hie error, et csecitas ! Certe Alexander VIII.
non feriit propositionem conditionatam, sed absolutam ; non feriit
phantasma, sed rem ipsam. Sic et fulmen Apostolicum non fuit
vibratum in phantasma Jansenii (ut filii iniquitatis volebant), sed
in hseresim Jansenianam revera talem. En verba Alexandri VIII.
( Peccatum Philosophicum, quantumvis grave, in illo qui Deum
vel ignorat ' (ecce ignorantia absoluta non conditionata) ' vel de eo
actu non cogitat, est grave peccatum, sed non est offensa Dei/ &c.
" Superest consideranda actualis de Deo cogitatio: quam famosi
istius Peccati Philosophic! assertores ad theologice peccandum
requiri sustinebant.
" Sane illam non requiri, sed vere,formaliter, et theologice peccare
eum, qui de Deo actu non cogitat, luce meridiana clarius ex Sacris
patet Oraculis. ' Exacerbavit Dominum peccator,' Ps. ix. Sed
cur exacerbavit? Fuitne semper in illo actualis de Deo cogi-
tatio ? Semperne fuit Deus in conspectu ejus, alioquin non pec-
caturi? Minime vero ; imo hoc ipsum ei jure merito exprobratur
et peccato vertitur, qubd de Deo non cogitdrit, seu Deum ocnlis suis
non prsefixerit. f Non est Deus in conspectu ejus.' Eodem Ps. v. 26.
" Deinde : si ad theologice peccandum semper actualis de
Deo, aut de peccati, quod Deum infinite offendit, malitia cogitatio
requireretur, nonne innumeri Athei, Machiavellopolitici, et consue-
tudinarii, in criminum voraginem, sine ulld Dei vel malitia con-
sideratione, se pracipit antes, apeccatis eximerentur?
" Solida docet Theologia, ad peccatum requiri et sufficere, quod
quis potuerit et debuerit de Deo cogitare, vel reflectere ad Deum,
aut ad gravitatem peccati infinitam involventis malitiam ; quod-
que ad ilia omnia non reflexerit.
" Sed ecce errorem, quasi suis exortum temporibus, formalis-
sime damnatum ab Angelico 1, 2, q. 74, a. 7, ad. 2. ' Ratio
superior,' inquit, seu mens ( dicitur consentire in peccatum, sive
cogitet de Lege ^Eterna ' (quse Deus est) f sive non.'' ':
In like manner Milante : —
(( Ex tarn infami confixo dogmate, a theologica culpa eximitur,
qui, actu non cogitans de Deo, Ejus praecepta conculcat. Qua-
propter, dubio procul nemo felicius faciliusque Veneri et sensui
indulget, quam perditissimus quisque homo, qui, assuetus peccata
peccatis addere, certe nee de Deo actu cogitat, nee Deum pertimes-
cit, cum peccat obduratus in malo
" Qucestio igitur est in prcesenti de sold ignorantia Juris Na-
turae, prsesertim de ignorantia Dei ; an hcec possibilis sit in facto ?
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 457
an, cum possibilis sit, sit quoque invincibilis dicenda ? et iterum an
peccans cum hac ignorantia de Deo, vel Deum non advertens
Ej usque injuriam non respiciens in actu pravo, committal pcc-
catum philosophicum ita sejunctum a theologico, ut ex illius, non
vero ex istius, deformitate reus sit judicandus ? Quo ex momento,
dum ejus peccatum ex pracfato modo operandi est duntaxat phi-
losopliicum, qui illud committit non est dignus seternA, poena, quia
Deum suo actu peccaminoso non offendit. In hoc quidem, ut
nuper indigitavi, cardo dijficultatis est situs"
Next, let us see Viva's statement : —
" Quod vero attinet ad doctorum sententias de Peccato Phi-
losopliico: certum in primis est, Alexandrum VIII. in hac thesi
noluisse damnare, qua in antiquis et gravibus theologis de hoc
peccato scripta legimus ; aliter non diceret, thesim hanc de novo
erupisse. Docuerunt autem plurimi primae notae scriptores
absolute esse simpliciter impossibile (sive metaphysice, sive saltern
moral iter,) peccatum pure philosophicum. Addendo tamen, veluti
hypothetice ac speculative, quod si per impossibile quis haberet
invincibilem Dei ignorantiam, aut de Deo actu invincibiliter nul-
latenus, ne implicite quidem, cogitaret, dum advertit furtum v. g.
esse rationi dissonum, in tali casu peccitum non foret Dei offensa,
nee peccatum theologicum, sed pure philosophicum ; eo quod im-
possibile sit Deum otfendi, nisi aliquo modo cognoscatur
Et in hoc duntaxat sensu hypothetico, nonnulli Societatis Pro-
fessores, vestigiis tantorum virorum inhserentes, idipsum in suis
thesibus propugnarunt ; rejiciendo semper absolute, cum iisdem
autoribus, saltern moralem possibilitatem Peccati Philosophic!."
— Viva, n. 3.
Viva tells us, you see, that, according to ' plurimi
primse notae scriptores,' if a man could be invincibly
ignorant or inadvertent of God's Prohibition, he might
nevertheless advert to the fact that theft, e.g. is contrary
to Reason ; and that, committing theft with sucli ad-
vertence, he would really sin : yet that such sin would
be philosophical and not theological. And Viva further
says, * It is certain that Alexander VIII. never intended
'to condemn' this opinion.
202. This leads me to Viva's own statement,
on the relation between God and moral obligation.
He undoubtedly does hold that moral obligation is
entirely derived from God's Necessary Command.
And the following extracts, from his work on the
458 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
"Theses Damnatae," will shew his mode of treating
the question.
" Diversimode est dissonum mendacium Deo, et homini ; esto
in utroque sit moraliter malum, per difformitatem cum Divina
Vbluntate, Quse est Prima Regula morum. Etenim Deo ita est
dissonum, ut etiam sit metaphysice impossibile ; quia Deus a
propria Natura, quse essentialiter est Cumulus omnium Perfec-
tionum, determinatur, sicut ad amandum Semetipsum, ita ad odio
habendum quod est intrinsece malum, seu quod argueret imper-
fectionem in Divina Voluntate, si ab ilia amaretur; ut est men-
dacium, odium Dei, perjurium, et similia : et idcirco, ut hsec sint
illicita Deo, non debent a lege superiore ipsi vetari, sed sufficit,
quod essentialiter sint contra ipsius Dei Voluntatem, metaphysice
determinatam ad bonum." — De Peccato Philosophico, n. 11.
" Quamvis cognitio explicite attingens peccatum ut dissonum
naturae rationali, non eatenus attingat explicite illud ut trans-
gressivum Divinse Legis, — nihilominus repugnat, quod peccatum
sub illo priori conceptu attingatur, quin simul attingatur implicit^
sub hoc secundo, quantum satis est ad quemdam contemptum
Divinse Legis, atque adeo ad offensam Dei. Ergo metaphysice
repugnat peccatum mortale pure philosophic-urn, quod Divinam
Amicitiam non dissolvat, nee sit Dei offensa. Antecedens probatur ;
quia prsecise per hoc quod peccatum attingatur explicite ut dis-
conveniens naturae rationali et Recta? Rationi, attingitur implicite
ut illicitum, atque adeo ut prohibitum et nullatenus patrandum.
Ergo etiam attingitur implicite ut oppositum Divinse Yoluntati
illud prohibenti; atque adeo ut contemptivumDivinae Prohibitions,
et ut Dei offensa. Probatur haec consequentia, quia quoties
peccatum apparet ut prohibitum ita ut nullatenus liceat, apparet
ut prohibitum ab ea voluntate, quse unice potest illud prohibere :
atqui sola Dei Lex et Voluntas potest peccatum prohibere, ita ut
nullatenus liceat, quibuscumque creaturis illud suadentibus aut prce-
cipientibus ; ergo quoties peccatum apparet ut omnino prohibi-
tum, apparet etiam oppositum Divinse Voluntati illud prohibenti,
atque adeo contemptivum Divina? Legis. Quod autem confusa
ista et implicita advertentia ad Divinam Prohibitionem sufficiatad
contrahendum reatum odii Divini, atque adeo dissolvendam Divi-
nam Amicitiam, — ex eo patet, quia sicut, in omnium sententia,
qui invincibiliter in sylvis enutritus nunquam audivit de poense
a3ternitate, aut ad ilium non advertit dum peccat, si vere advertit
ad Dei offensam, adhuc sit reus posnse seternse, per hoc precise
quod consentiendo in culpam implicite consentiat in poenam illi
annexam natura sua, etiamsi non habeat claram notitiam de
seternitate poense debita ; — ita qui in sylvis enutritus invincibiliter
nunquam audivit de Dei Existentia, aut ad ilium non advertit
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 459
dum peccat, si vere advertit ad dissonantiam culpac cum naturfi
rational! ct cum Rationis dictamine, atque adeo ad prohibitionem
sibifactam ab aliquo Superiore itaut nullatcnus possit ea operatic
sibi licere quibuscumque creaturis ad illain impellentibus, adlmc
fit reus odii Divini ; per hoc precise, quod consentiendo in opera-
tionem illam sibi interdictam, implicite consentiat in violationem
Legis probibentis, atque adeo in contemptum talis Voluntatis;
etiamsi careat clara notitia, quod Lex seu Voluntas illam prohi-
bens sit Voluntas Divina, unde Deus contemnatur : et consequenter
metaphysice repugnat peccatum pure philosophicum, quod non
sit Dei ofFensa, nee Ejus Amicitiam reseindat" — Ibid. n. 9.
Viva, I should add, expressly states (as indeed we
have seen already) that this view of his is only one oat
of those held in the Catholic Schools ; and that the
contradictory doctrine is maintained by * plurimi prinue
nota3 scriptores.' — (See nn. 3 and 12.)
" Illud solum ad qusestionem speculativam spectat : num ea,
quse sunt mala ab intrinseco, formaliter habeant rationem peccati,
seu mali moraliter ac inhonesti, per oppositionem cum Lege pro-
hibente, an vero per disconvenientiam cum natura rational i ?
Qu& in re communius docent, per disconvenientiam cum natura
rational! esse tantum fundamentatiter peccata, et habere solam
prohibenditatem, seu exigentiam ut prohibeantur ; formalem vero
peccati rationem habere, per violationem Legis prohibentis : ut
proinde carerent malitid formali, si nonprohiberentur; sive possibile
sit ea positive non prohiberi a Deo, sive impossibile ; quod verius
censeo cum Suar. lib. ii. de Leg. c. G, contra Okamum, et alios.
Quinimmo arbitrior esse metaphysice, nedum moraliter, im-
possibile, quod homo Deum, saltern ut Supremum Legislatorem,
ignoret, aut de Illo actu non cogitet, dum ponit operationem,
quam advertit esse natura3 rational! disconvenienteui." — In Props.
48 et 49 Innocent XL, n. 1.
You will see from these extracts that, according to
Viva, the source of moral obligation is simply God's
necessary Command. In other words (to take his own
instances), we are morally obliged to avoid lying and
perjury, for this reason and for no other whatever ; viz.
that God by the necessity of His Nature forbids such
acts. Of late years several Catholic philosophers seem
to have adopted this view. In regard to the theolo-
gians known by Viva himself, there are only two (I
think) whom he quotes by name as favourable to his
position, viz. Curiel and Zumel ; neither of them cer-
460 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
tainly being very eminent names : and this, though Viva
himself is about the latest in date of the great scholastic
writers. At the same time he calls his own the most
common opinion ;* while frankly admitting that the
other doctrine (which I have followed throughout) is
held by 'plurimi primae notae scriptores.'f
We have argued at some length against Viva's
doctrine, in the second and third Sections of the first
chapter. Yet it may be worth while briefly to criticise
Viva's own reasoning in its behalf.
God is necessitated to prohibit lying and perjury ;
or, in other words, He is not free to withhold that pro-
hibition. So far Viva agrees with Suarez and the great
body of theologians. Why is God not free to withhold
that Prohibition ? Of course 'because to do so would
be repugnant to His Essential Sanctity.' Why would
it be thus repugnant? 'Because lying and perjury
are intrinsecally evil.' But why are lying and perjury
intrinsecally evil ? If you say c simply because God
has prohibited themj then Viva's argument comes to
this ; * God is not free to withhold the Prohibition of
i such acts, simply because He has in fact prohibited
' them :' than which a more absurd statement cannot
be imagined. Viva then must admit, that lying and
perjury are intrinsecally evil, for some reason wholly
distinct from God's Prohibition ; but then this is pre-
cisely the logical contradictory to his original assertion.
Whatever is intrinsecally evil, we are morally obliged
on that ground to avoid. If then lying and perjury
are intrinsecally evil, for reasons wholly independent
of God's Prohibition; — then we are morally obliged to
avoid them, for reasons wholly independent of God's
Prohibition. And this is the thesis which Viva ex-
pressly denies.
Indeed if we examine his language with any care,
we shall soon see how false is his position. No abler
* "De Peccato Philosophico," n. 8. This statement however comes to
very little ; it is so very common a tendency of theologians, to regard their
own opinion as the most common.
t Ibid. n. 3.
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 461
or subtler theologian can easily be found, among the
whole body of scholastics ; and yet see how vaguely
and confusedly he speaks. Does he, or does he not, hold
that lying and perjury are intrinsecally evil, apart from
God's Prohibition ? No consistent answer can possibly
be given. In the last extract, he says that they are
KQiformally evil ; l carerent mali fid formally si non pro-
hiberentur :' yet in that very passage he calls them
'mala ab intrinseco ;' and he says in the first of the
three extracts, that they are 'intrinsece mala/ What
distinction of ideas can possibly be imagined, answering
to this distinction of words, between 'formaliter mala'
on the one hand, and ' intrinsece mala ' on the other
hand ? He says that, apart from God's Prohibition,
such acts are so intrinsecally evil, that they are ' illicita
Deo;' and that the not detesting them would be
repugnant to His Sanctity. (First Extract.) If they
are 'unlawful to God,' I suppose they are unlawful
to us; if the not detesting them would be repugnant
to sanctity in the Creator, so would it also be in the
creature. If then certain acts, apart altogether from
God's Prohibition, are ' unlawful to us,' and ' repugnant
to sanctity,' what imaginable sense can there be in
denying, that they are 'formaliter mail?"1
Then, Viva's second extract simply takes for
granted the whole question at issue. He assumes that
nothing can be morally evil, until it is prohibited ;
and then proves (easily enough) that, on such an
* " Recentiores alii, vi argument! oppressi, dicunt, omne peccatum quod
jure naturali est peccatum, prius natura esse malum, quateniis contra
naturam rationalem est ; et hac ratione esse peccatum sed non culpam :
culpam autem esse ratione Positivi Prcecepti Dei vetantis talc opus : ita
tamen ut non possit Deus non vetare peccatum illud, ut sit culpa. . . .
" Haec tamen sententia facile impugnari potest. Nam .... malitia
latius patet quam peccatum, et peccatum quam culpa : sed malitia in quovis
actu facit peccatum ; in actu autem libero facit culpam. Ergo, si ante Dei
Prohibitionem, supponamus malitiam in actu libero contra naturalem ra-
tionem, ut necessarid fatendum est, debet etiam supponi hoc ipso culpa
moralis.
*****
"Adde etiam, quod Odium [quod a Deo concipitur] supponit malum in
actione humand ac proinde culpam. Ncque euim culpa ideb est culpa quia
Deus eum Odio habeat ; sed potiiis, quia est culpa, Deus earn Ooio pro-
sequitur."— Vasquez in lm 2*, d. 96, n. 8.
H H
462 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
hypothesis, the Prohibitor must be of Infinite Authority.
4 Quoties,' he says, ' peccatum apparet ita prohibitum
' ut nullatenus liceat, apparet prohibitum ab Ea Vo-
4 Imitate, Quae unice potest illud prohibere.' But his
opponents maintain, that many things are so morally
evil, 'ut nullatenus liceant,' without reference to any
Prohibition whatever : to this allegation, which alone
concerns him, he does not, throughout the extract, so
much as allude.
No one has a more grateful sense than myself, of
the most important services conferred by Viva on
Theology ; no one more highly appreciates his rare
mental gifts. But it will happen now and then to the
best theologians, that they incautiously admit some
statement, the full bearing and consequences of which
they have by no means duly considered.
With Viva I close my extracts from theological
writers ; which I could have indefinitely increased
indeed, but that there seemed no reason for doing so.
Further quotations however have been made from
them in the seventh Section, on the question of dispen-
sation from the Natural Law ; quotations which will
place their meaning (if possible) in even a clearer light.
203. From theologians we pass to philosophers : and
of these the first whom I will bring before you shall be
Cardinal Gerdil. No writer possesses greater authority
than Gerdil, on these theologico-philosophical questions ;
and it will be well therefore to see in full his whole
judgment on the matter.
(f I. Principe.
ts II y a entre le juste et 1'injuste, Fhonnete et le deshonnete,
une difference immuable et necessaire : en sorte qu'il est autant
impossible que le juste devienne injuste, ou que Phonnete devienne
deshonnete, qu'il est impossible que la partie devienne plus grande
que le tout, ou que deux choses egales a une troisieme ne soient pas
dgales entr'elles.
" Explication.
" II est juste et honnete, de preferer Pamour de Dieu a Famour
de la creature ; il est injuste et deshonnete, de preferer Pamour
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 463
de la creature k 1'amour de Dieu. II est juste et honnete de
conserver sa patrie, quand on le pcut ; il est injuste et deslionnete
de Ja trahir. Or je dis, que la preference de Dieu a la creature
porte avec soi un caractere de justice et d'honnetet6 immuable et
necessaire ; qu'au contraire, la preference de la creature a. Dieu
porte avec soi un caractere d'injustice et de turpitude immuable
et necessaire : que les efforts qu'on fait pour conserver sa patrie
portent aussi avec eux ce caractere de justice et d'honn£tete ; et
qu'au contraire la trahison de sa patrie porte avec soi un caractere
immuable et necessaire d'injustice et de turpitude.
" Preuve.
(( Les rapports de perfection sont autant immuables, que les
rapports de quantite1 : or est-il que c'est un rapport de perfection,
qu'un £tre plus parfait est preferable a un etre moiris parfait ;
parceque le plus de realite et de perfection dans I'e'tre plus
parfait, est preferable a la privation ou negation de ce plus de
realite et de perfection dans 1'etre moins parfait : et cela a cause
que Petre est preferable au neant. Done ce rapport de perfection
fait, que Dieu est immuablement et ne'cessairement preferable a la
creature ; que la conservation de la patrie est preferable a sa
destruction. D'un autre cote il y a rapport de convenance entre
la preference et ce qui est preferable, et un rapport de discon-
venance entre la preference et ce qui n'estpas preferable : done
le juste et 1'honnete etant fonde sur ses rapports immuables de
perfection et de convenance, il est autant impossible que le juste
est 1'honnete devienne injuste et des/ionnete, qu'il est impossible que la
partie devienne plus grande que le tout, &c.
" De Ik il suit, que comme nous concevons clairement qu'il ne
depend pas d'une institution libre de la Volonte' de Dieu, de faire
que le tout soit phis grand que sa partie, ou au contraire, parce
que Dieu contenant emmemment toutes les realites des quantites
et leurs rapports, ce rapport se trouve fonde dans ^Essence /m-
muable et Necessaire de Dieu meme; de meme nous concevons
clairement, qu'il ne depend pas d'une institution libre de Dieu,
d'imposer k une creature raisonnable 1'obligation de preferer ce
qui est preferable k ce qui ne Test pas, ou au contraire; parce
que Dieu contenant tous les rapports de perfection, par k-squels
chaque chose est d'autant plus preferable a Tautre qu'elle
participe plus de la plenitude de Petre, et Dieu s'aimant lui-
meme invinciblement, et chaque chose k proportion qu'elle a
plus de rapport k Lui de qui seul vient tout 1'etre, et par conse-
quent toute Pamabilite, — ces rapports de perfection sow* fondcs
dans ^essence meme de Dieu : (A) et la preference qu'on doit a ce
qui est preferable, est fondee sur la Saintete meme de Dieu, qui
464 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
consiste en ce que Dieu aime et veut, que chaque chose soit
aimee ou preferee, a proportion qu'elle est aimable et preferable.
Or cet ordre, dans lequel Dieu connoit et aime toute chose a
Eroportion qu'elle est plus ou moins aimable, est ce qu'on appelle
i Loi Eternelle, qui n'est autre que Sa Sagesse et Sa Saintete.
En un mot Dieu connoit necessairement et immuablement tout
1'ordre, et tous les degres de perfection ; Son Amour, ou Sa Yolonte
suit necessairement 1'ordre de Ses Connoissances ; done il y a
un certain ordre que la Yolonte de Dieu suit necessairement et
immuablement ; et c'est cet ordre qu'on appelle la Loi Eternelle.
Et c'est en ce sens que David, parlant a Dieu, dit: Lex tua
Yeritas. Yotre Loi est verite ; les rapports de perfection, qui ne
sont pas moins verites immuables que les rapports ou verites
mathe'matiques, sont Yotre Loi ; parce que Yotre Amour suit
necessairement 1'ordre de Yotre Connoissance, et que Fordre de
Yotre Connoissance est exactement conforme a V ordre des choses
elles-memes.
" De 1& il suit, que c'est pour n'avoir pas assez bien medite
cette matiere, ni assez bien medite par consequent le fbndement
du Droit Naturel, que Pufendorff(Droit de la Nature, et des Gens,
lib. i. ch. 2, § 6) ne craint pas d'avancer, qu'il lui semble, que
' ceux qui admettent pour fondement de la moralite des actions
' humaines je ne sais quelle regie eternelle, independante de Vlnsti-
( tution Divine, associent a Dieu manifestement un principe exterieur
' coeternel, qu'il a du suivre necessairement dans la determination
' des qualites essentielles et distinctives de chaque chose. (B.)
' D'ailleurs on convient generalement, que Dieu a cree 1'homme,
' comme tout lereste du monde, avec une Yolonte souverainement
f Libre ; d'ou il s'ensuit, qu'il dependoit absolument de Son bon
' Plaisir de donner a Phomme, en le creant, telle nature qu'il
( jugeroit a propos. Comment done les actions humaines pour-
f roient-elles avoir quelque propriete qui resultat d'une necessite
' interne et absolue, independamment de ^Institution Divine, et du
( bon Plaisir de cet Etre Souverain ? '
<{ On voit premierement, que quoique nous disions, que
Dieu a du suivre necessairement 1'ordre et la Loi Eternelle, cette
Loi Eternelle n'est pas un principe exterieur qu'on associe a Dieu ;
cette Loi Eternelle resulte de la perfection rneme de PEtre Divin,
qui connoit les choses idles quelles sont, et dont 1' Amour est
essentiellement conforme a V ordre des Ses Connoissances. Et certaine-
ment, sans cette Loi Eternelle, comment pourroit-on assurer, que
Dieu ne peut mentir, qu'il ne peut tromper les hommes ? S . Paul et
1'Ecriture associent done a Dieu un principe exterieur, en assurant
que Dieu ne peut mentir ? *
* " Devoirs," &c. liv. i. chap. ii. sec. 8, note 1. "Dieu Iui-m6me, qui n'a
esoin de nous, est sujet a la glorieuse necessite de ne pouvoir rien prescrire
CATHOLIC AUTHOBITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 465
" On voit en second lieu, que la raison que Pauteur apporte
pour soutenir son opinion, vient aussi de ce qu'il n'avoit pas assez
bien medite les raisonnements metaphysiques. II est vrai, qu'on
convient generalement, que Dieu a cree Phomme, comme tout
le reste du monde, avec une Volonte souverainement Libre : mais
aussi on convient generalement, que suppose que Dieu se soit
librement determine & creer le monde, il ne Lui a pas did libre de
la cre'er d'une maniere indigne de Soi, ou qui ne fut pas conforuie
& cet ordre, ou & cette Loi Eternelle, fondee sur Sa Sagesse et sur
Sa Saintete. Ce que Pauteur ajoute, est encore plus frivole;
qu'il dependoit du bon Plaisir de Dieu, de donner & 1'homme en le
creant telle nature qu'Il jugeroit & propos. Je crois que Pauteur
a voulu dire, que Dieu, au lieu de creer un homme, pouvoit creer
un oiseau, ou un animal de toute autre nature, & qui on auroit
donne le noin d'homme; et alors ce qu'il dit est tout-a-fait hors
de propos. Mais suppose que Dieu ait voulu creer librement
une nature telle que celle que nous appellons homme ; II n'a pas
certainement pu lui donner une autre nature, ni lui donner par
une institution libre une autre loi naturelle. II ne pouvoit faire
que Vhomme connut avec Evidence, que la partie fut plus grande que
le tout, ou que la creature fut preferable au Crdateur ; et par con-
sequent il ne pouvoit faire que Vhomme jugeat de devoir pre'fe'rer la
creature au Crdateur, et que sa preference ensuite de ce jugement fut
juste et honnete.
" De Ik il suit, que c'est une bien miserable objection que
celle que Pauteur et plusieurs autres tirent du physique des
actions humaines, pour prouver qu'elles sont de leur nature
indifferentes, et que les betes les font sans peche. Je ne crois
pas qu'il y aie jamais eu au monde un homme si peu sense, qui
voulut que le mouvement physique, ou Pacte exterieur, par lequel
on tue un homme ou qu'on lui vole son bien, fut un peche.
Quand on dit que les actions de l'homme sont souvent honnetes
ou deshonnetes par elles-memes, on Pen tend du consentement de
la volonte, et de la preference qu'elle donne & un motif plutot
qu'a un autre. Or on eut raison d'assurer, que certains consente-
ments ou preferences de la volonte sont dereglees de leur nature ;
comme quand elle pref£re la creature au Createur, &c. C'est
done bien mal a propos, que Pufendorff reprend Grotius (ibid,
p. 32) pour avoir mis au rang ' des choses, auxquelles la Puis-
sance Divine ne s^tend point, a cause qu'elles impliquent contra-
diction, la malice de certaines actions humaines; qui sont essen-
centre les regies inviolables de 1'ordre, qui ne sont autre chose qu'une
emanation de Ses Perfections Infinies, une suite de la nature des choses
dont il est lui-meme 1'Auteur ; de sorte qu'Il Se dementiroit, s'll agissoit
autrement." (Author's note.) (C.)
466 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
tiellement mauvaises, en sorte qu'il n'est pas au Pouvoir de Dieu
meme de faire quelles ne soient pas telles.'
"II. Principe.
" On peut appeller Loi Naturelle la connoissance qu'on a de la
difference du juste et de 1'injuste, de 1'honnete et du deshonnete.
ff Explication.
"La meme lumiere, qui nous fait connoitre qu'une action est
juste ou injuste, honnete ou deshonnete, nous fait aussi connoitre
que nous devons faire ce qui est juste, et nous abstenir de ce qui
est injuste; c'est-a-dire, que des que nous connoissons qu'une pre-
ference est juste ou injuste, nous ne pouvons ignorer notre devoir
par rapport a cette preference. Done cette connoissance de la
difference du juste et de 1'injuste, peut et doit servir de regie aux
actions humaines ; on peut done lui donner le nom de loi. Or
cette loi est assurement naturelle,* et non positive : parce qu'elle ne
depend pas de Pinstitution libre et positive d'un legislateur ; mais
qu'elle estfondee sur la connoissance de certains rapports naturels ou
essentiels des choses memes. On pourroit disputer si on doit donner
le nom de loi a une regie, quand on ne sait pas qu'elle ait etd donne'e
par un Ugidateur Ugitime; mais ce seroit une dispute de nom: il
suffit que cette regie puisse imposer une veritable obligation de la
suivre (D). Or la connoissance du juste et de 1'injuste impose a
tous les hommes une vraie obligation de faire ce qui est juste, et
de s'abstenir de ce qui est injuste, sans attendre la connoissance
explicite de la volonte d'un Ugislateur. Ceux qui ne veulent pas
que la connoissance du juste et de 1'injuste suffise pour imposer
une obligation proprement dite, sont fort embarrasses de trouver le
fondement de Fobligation ou sont les hommes, d'obeir a la Loi
Naturelle."
******
" J'ai dit que la connoissance des verites fondees sur les
rapports de perfection impose un veritable devoir, et par conse-
quent une obligation de s'y conformer. Pour eclaircir cette ques-
tion qui regarde le fondement de Pobligation, et qui est fort subtile
et fort delicate, il faut dire deux rnots du sentiment oppose.
Plusieurs celebres auteurs entre les Protestants, outre Pufen-
* " C'est ainsi que Ciceron definit la loi naturelle : ' Lex est ratio insita
in naturS,, quae jubet ea quae facienda sunt, prohibetque contraria.' Fausse
est par consequent la maxime de M. Hobbes ('Fond de la Politiq.' ch. 12,
ar. 1) congue en ces termes : ' Mais entre les opinions qui disposent a la
* sedition, 1'une des principalles est celle-ci, qu'il appartient a chaque par-
* ticulier de juger ou de ce qui est bien, ou de ce qui est mal,' &c. Voyez
le reste de 1'article. La confutation en est aisee." (Author's note.)
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 467
dorff et Barbeyrac, pretendent qu'il n'y a point do veritable
obligation de faire ou d'omettre une action, sans la volontt on la
loi (Tun Ugislateur Ugitime, qui la commande on qui la detende.
Or pour faire une loi parfaite qui impose une obligation parfuite,
ils veulent que cette loi ait deux parties ; Pune qui enseigne ce
que Pon doit faire, Pautre qui menace de la peine qu'on encourra
si on ose la violer.
" 1. De 1& il s'ensuivroit, qu'on ne seroit oblige* d'obe*ir
h la loi que par la crainte des peines ; puisque sans cette crainte
qui repond & la partie coactive de la loi, ou sans la partie coactive
dont Faction ne tend qu'a inspirer la crainte, il n'y a point de loi
parfaite.
" 2. Je dois remarquer une contradiction, dans laquelle ils
tombent a ce sujet. Ils avouent qu'un Prince, depouille de son
autorite, peut faire une loi qui oblige : cependant la loi d'un tel
Prince ne peut contenir que la partie directive ; car dans cette
supposition la partie coactive ne sauroit avoir d'effet.
" 3. Mais si la loi d'un Prince depouille de son autorite*, qui
ne conserve que la partie directive, ne laisse pas que d'imposer
une veritable obligation ; si les gens de bien, independamment de
la crainte, se croient obliges de s'y soumettre ;— sur quoi est fondee
cette obligation, si non sur les lumieres naturelles de la Raison,
qui font voir le rapport de convenance qu'il y a eu ce qu'un sujet
obeisse k son superieur ?
" D'ailleurs dans la societe civile il peut arriver, qu'un
homme aime mieux subir la peine infligee par la loi, une amende
pecuniaire par exemple, que d'observer cette loi ; il peut me me
quelquefois, comme il arrive aux coritrebandiers, si bien prendre
ses mesures, qu'il ne sera pas decouvert, ou qu'il ne craindra
aucunement d'etre pris. Alors la partie coactive de la loi n'a
aucune force par rapport a cet homme. Est-il done absous de
1'obligation de s'y soumettre ? C'est ce qu'on n'oseroit dire.
C'est done en virtu de la partie directive; c'est done parce
qu'il juge qu'il est juste de se soumettre & une loi legitime,
meme sans y etre force; et il juge que cela est juste, & cause de
ce rapport de convenance qu'il y decouvre, c'est-a-dire en d'autres
termes, k cause de la conformite de cet acte avec les lumieres de
sa raison. Puis done que cette conformite, &c., est la regie ou le
fondement de 1'obligation oil Ton se reconnoit d'obeir & un
superieur, on ne sauroit douter que cette conformit^ ne soit le
premier fondement de toute obligation; car il est clair, que ce
n'est qu'en virtu de ^obligation gtntrale de se conformer aux
lumikres de la droite Raison, qu'on vient k connoitre Pobligation
particuliere d'obeir a un superieur. Car la connoissance de cette
obligation particuliere suppose necessairement ces deux con-
noissances plus generales : Pune, que c'est une chose conforme a
468 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
la droite Raison et convenable, de se soumettre h un superieur ;
Pautre, quon doitfaire ce quon connoit conforme a la droite Raison.
Ces deux connoissances sont comme les deux premisses d'un
syllogisme, dont la connoissance de 1'obligation de se soumettre a
la loi d'un superieur est une consequence necessaire. (E)
" Un sujet obeit a son Prince legitime depouille de son autorite,
qui ne sauroit lui faire du mal. Un autre obeit a un brigand,
entre les mains de qu'il est tombe, par la crainte des supplices,
quoique ce brigand n'ait aucune superiorite legitime sur lui.
Dans le premier cas il y a une obligation d'obeir ; dans le second
il n'y en a point, des qu'on peut desobeir en cachette, pour ne
pas s'exposer a la mort. Qu'on en donne d'autre raison que celle
que nous avons dit. Cela fait voir, que 1'autorite d'infliger des
peines n'accompagne pas toujours la superiorite legitime. Ce
sont done les lumieres de la Raison, qui font connoitre la su-
periorite legitime, et 1'obligation de s'y soumettre.
" Quand on connoit une verite fonde sur les rapports de per-
fection, par ex. que la vie de son ami est preferable a celle
d'une bete, on connoit aussi le rapport de convenance qu'il y a a
preferer la vie de cet ami a celle de la bete. Or ce rapport de
convenance est aussi une verite, qu'on exprime en ces termes: fil
convient, ou il faut, preferer la vie d'un ami a celle d'une bete ;
quand on voit un ami pret a etre dechire par une bete qui s'est
jetee sur lui, il ne faut pas balancer a conserver la vie de cet
ami au depens de celle de la bete, si on peut la tuer.' La con-
noissance de cette vdritd fait done naitre dans V esprit un jugement
aussi certain de ce qu'il faut faire en cette occasion, que la connois-
sance d'une vdritd de gdometrie fait naitre un jugement certain de ce
qu'il faut affirmer ou nier. Or comme le jugement certain en
fait de speculation est la regie de ce qu'on doit affirmer ou nier, —
le jugement certain en fait d'action, c'est-a-dire de ce qu'il faut
faire ou ne pas faire, est la regie de ces memes actions. Or
comme on appelle verite ou faussete, ce qui est conforme ou
contraire a la regie en fait de speculation, — on appelle bon ou
mauvais, ce qui est conforme ou oppose a la regie des actions ;
la lumiere la plus simple de la verite fait connoitre, que chaque
chose, pour etre dans 1'ordre et n'etre pas fautive, doit etre con-
forme a sa regie. L'esprit ne peut done connoitre la regie de ses
actions, sans connoitre aussi qu'il doit les y conformer. ( Est autem
vitium primum animse rational is voluntas ea faciendi, qua? vetat
summa et intima veritas,' dit S. Augustin. (Lib. de vera Relig.,
cap. 19.) Ce fondement de 1'obligation est si naturel, que les
paiens memes, qui avoient aussi bien que les modernes 1'idee de
1'obligation (puisque tout le monde sait ce que Jest que P obligation,
quoique tout le monde ne connoisse peut etre pas les fondements,)
n'en ont pas pense autrement. Quoiqu'un crime put etre eternelle-
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 469
ment cache aux dieux et aux hommes, on ne devroit pas le
commettre, disoient-ils ; car en evitant tout autre chatiment, ou
ne pourroit eviter les reproches de la conscience. Or ce reproche
de la conscience ne consiste qu'en ce que lesprit connoit qifil
manque a ce qu'il doit, lorsqu'il agit contre ce qu'il connoit etre la
regie de ses actions. C'est done sur la conformite & cette regie
qu'est fondee Pobligation. (F.) C'est en ce sens, que S. Paul dit
(Ep. ad Rom.) ' Qui sine lege peccaverunt, sine lege peribunt.'
Comment done le traducteur de Pufendorff a-t-il pu pretendre,
pour excuser en quelque maniere Ferreur que nous avons combattu
ci-dessus, que quoique independamment de la Volonte' de Dieu il ne
soit pas aussi beau* de manquer a sa parole, que de la tenir, &c.,
cela ne suffit pas pour imposer une obligation proprement aussi
nomme'e ?
"III. Principe.
"La connoissance du juste et de Pinjuste ne depend pas d'une
connoissance explicite de la Volonte de Dieu: en sorte qu'on ne
puisse juger qu'une chose est juste et honn6te, que parce qu'on
sait que Dieu la commande ; et qu'au contraire elle n'est injuste
et deshonnete, que parce qu'on sait que Dieu la defend.
" Explication.
"Le traducteur de Pufendorff (lib. ii. c. 2, § 6, n. 1) avoue
qu'il y a des actes qui par eux-memes ne conviennent a Dieu en
aucune maniere ; c'est-k-dire, dont II ne sauroit etre susceptible
sans deroger & Ses Perfections, et sans se contredire Lui-meme*: et
je crois que c'est une verite, dont on ne sauroit douter, pour peu
qu'on ait de bon sens et de religion. Or ce qui nous porte &
ne pas attribuer & Dieu ces sortes d' actes, c'est par ce que nous
les connoissons manifestement contraires aux notions communes que
nous avons de la Bontd, et de la Justice, fyc., que nous savons etre des
attributs de la Divinite'. Done il y a des choses que nous con-
noissons par elles-memes honnetes et ddshonnetes, justes et injustes,
inddpendamment d yune connoissance explicite de la Volonte' de Dieu.
C'est ce que S. Paul explique clairement. (Ep. ad Rom. cap. ii.);
' Quum enim gentes quse legem non habent, naturaliter ea quae
legis sunt faciunt, ejusmodi legem non habentes, ipsi sibi sunt
lex : qui ostendunt opus legis scriptum in cordibus suis ; testi-
monium reddente illis conscientia ipsorum, et inter se invicein
cogitationibus accusantibus et defendentibus.' De 1^, suit le
* Pufendorff (" Devoirs," &c. liv. i. chap. ii. § 1) dit : " L'ordre et la beaute
de la societe humaine demandoit necessairement, qu'il y eut quelque rdgle,
a laquelle on fut tenu de se conformer." Lors done, qu'on connoit une
regie qui dirige les actions d'une maniere conforme £ cet ordre, et a cette
beauttj, pourquoi cette regie ne sera-t-elle pas une loi, comme 1'auteur la
nomme meme au § 2 ? (Author^ note.)
470 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
" IV. Principe.
" Au contraire, sans une expresse revelation, on ne pent con-
noitre, qu'une telle action soit commandee ou defendue par Dieu,
que parce qu'on sait qiielle est de soi bonne, ou mauvaise.
<f Explication.
" Le traducteur de Pufendorff, qui (malgrd le passage de
I'Apotre que nous avons cite ci-dessus) ne reconnoit pour fond e-
ment de I 'obligation que la Volonte' de Dieu ; dit, que cette Volonte
se decouvre & nous par la convenance de telles ou telles actions
avec la nature humaine. Mais comme il n'explique point en
quoi il fait consister cette convenance, on est en droit de lui re-
pondre, que ce qu'il avance ne signifie rien. II ne sauroit sim-
plement entendre, par cette convenance, les actions qui peuvent
tourner a Favantage et au bonheur de 1'homme; puisque son
auteur avoue qu'il y en a plusieurs qui ne sont pas moralement
bonnes : comme on peut le prouver par la connoissance des arts,
qui n'est pas moralement bonne, (car on n'est pas d'autant plus
honnete liomme qu'on est grand geometre) et qui pourtant con-
tribue infiniment a Pavantage de la societe. Qu'est-ce done que
c'est cette convenance avec la nature humaine ? On ne peut
Pexpliquer autrement, si non que la nature humaine etant une
nature raisonnable, elle connoit, entre les choses qui se presentent,
entre les fins qu'elle se peut proposer en agissant, entre les motifs
qui la meuvent, certains rapports de perfection, par lesquels elle
connoit qu'une telle action est preferable a une autre action, et
qu'il y a un rapport de convenance a preferer ce qui est pre-
fe'rable. Mais alors c'est Pidee de Pordre qui est la regie de nos
actions, et qui suffit pour obliger meme a agir ceux que Von suppose
n'avoir aucune ide'e de Dieu. (G) Nous avons done une idee du
juste et de Pinjuste, de Phonnete et du deshonnete, inddpendam-
ment de la connoissance explicite de la VolonU de Dieu. Ce n'est
que par cette idee, que nous jugeons, que c'est la Volonte de
Dieu qu'on fasse du bien a ceux qui nous en font ; sans cette idee,
comment les paiens, qui n'avoient aucune expresse revelation de
la Volonte de Dieu, auroient-ils pu dormer de si beaux preceptes
de morale; distinguer Putile de Phonnete; enseigner qu'on doit
' omnem cruciatum perferre, intolerabili dolore lacerari, potius
quam officium prodere aut fidem ; ' et reconnoitre que cela etoit
conforme a la Volonte de PEtre Souverain, essentiellement Juste,
Bon, et Saint ? II faut done convenir qu'il j a des choses, qui
sont f malse, quia prohibitae : ' et qu'il y en a d'autres, qui sont
* prohibits, quia malse.' " — Morale Chretienne de Card. Gerdil,
pp. 44-49, 51-57, vol. ii. of the Roman edition of his works.
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 471
The more carefully you study this passage, the more
undeniable you will find it, that Gerdil's doctrine, on
the relation between God and Moral Truth, is the very
doctrine which we ourselves follow.
Thus (1.) in the passages which we have marked
with the letters D and G, he expressly states that there
may be real moral obligation, which in no way springs
from the command of a legitimate superior ; nay that
those are morally obliged by it, whom we may 'suppose
to have no idea of God at all.'
Then (2.) in that passage, which we have marked
at its conclusion with the letter E, he argues against a
certain position, which he ascribes to various Protestant
authors : viz. that ' there can be no true obligation,
without the will or law of a legitimate superior.' You
see, he ignores the very existence of any Catholics who
hold this position ; and he ascribes it to none except
Protestants.
His reasoning against it is very forcible. He says
to his opponents : ' Either you hold that the mere com-
'mand of a legitimate superior suffices to constitute
' obligation ; or else you say that there is no obligation,
' except where the superior adds to his command the
' threat of punishment on those who disobey. If you
'choose the latter alternative, various monstrous con-
' sequences will result ; and indeed you will not se-
'riously cleave to this alternative. But if you take
'the former alternative, observe the principle which
'you assume. Why are you under the moral obli-
gation of obeying a legitimate superior? Because
4 right Reason declares that such obligation exists.
' The particular obligation then of obeying a legitimate
' superior, is but the result of a more general obliga-
' tion ; the obligation viz. of conforming your conduct
'to the declarations of right Reason. Independently
' therefore of any command issued by a superior, there
'exists an antecedent obligation, of conforming your-
* selves to the declarations of right reason.7
Again : in the earlier passage which we have marked
B, he refutes a charge brought by the Protestant
472 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Pufendorff, against those who admit, as the foundation
of morality, a certain Eternal Rule independent of
Divine Institution. He considers this charge of
Pufendorff as a charge brought against the very
doctrine which he (Gerdil) himself holds.
(3.) In the passage marked D, Gerdil says that a
* knowledge of the difference between just and unjust
may and ought to serve as a Rule of human actions'
He adds, that whether such a Rule should or should
not be called a Law, is a mere question of words: and
he himself throughout gives to it that name. For
myself, I have avoided doing so ; that I may exactly
conform to that mode of expression, which Suarez
regards as technically correct.
(4.) In the passage, which we have marked A at
its conclusion, Gerdil has spoken of certain ' rapports
de perfection,' which are c autant immuables que ceux
de quantite.' There can be no doubt that these * rap-
ports,'— whatever else they include, — include the in-
trinsic moral preferableness of this act over that ; and
in fact the whole body of Moral Truth. The author
proceeds to say of these ' rapports,' that God ' contains
'them all;' and that they all ' have their foundation in
Gods very Essence.'' He holds then that Moral Truth
is identical with God.
(5.) We are now able to understand the meaning of
his note, which we have marked C ; and which is per-
haps the only part of the whole passage presenting any
kind of difficulty. I am not meaning that this note
can possibly bear any sense adverse to ours ; but merely
that it is somewhat difficult to understand it at all. I
take its sense to be the following.
It is One Perfection of God, that all Moral Truth
is identical with Him ; it is a Second (viz. Wisdom or
Omniscience,) that in Himself He sees this Truth; it
is a Third, (viz. Sanctity,) that He approves it. This
being understood, let us proceed to the fact of creation.
God freely endues every rational creature with that
nature, and places him under those circumstances, which
to Him, in His Providence, may seem good. From this
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 473
nature and these circumstances, certain moral obliga-
tions and preferablenesses necessarily arise, according
to the principles of Moral Truth. (See n. 45, p. 104.)
(1.) These obligations and preferablenesses are the 4in
violable rules of order,' spoken of by Gerdil. (2.) They
are an emanation from God's Infinite Perfections ; being
in fact the application to particular cases of those moral
principles, which are identical with God and His Per-
fections. (3.) They result necessarily from that nature
of various creatures, whereof God is the Free Author.
(4.) God would falsify Himself, if He issued any Com-
mand at variance with those obligations and preferable-
nesses, which are the necessary results of His own Free
Appointment.
On the whole then, nothing can be more certain,
than that Gerdil holds that very doctrine which we
ourselves follow, on the relation between God and
Moral Truth. For he says, (1) that Moral Truth is
equally necessary with Mathematical ; (2) that it
possesses obligatory force, independently of any Com-
mand given by a Superior ; and (3) that it is identical
with the Essence of God. These are the very points
for which we have been throughout contending.*
This whole passage of Gerdil's is so profound and
so pregnant, that I am sure you will not grudge the
length of time which we have devoted to its examination.
204. I will next give specimens of the treatment
which this question receives, in the philosophical com-
pendia, or other school treatises, now in use among
* Gerdil fully agrees with us, I say, as to the relation between God and
Moral Truth. For, as we shall have to urge in the text a little later, ho
regards the idea of 'moral obligation,' not merely as not containing the
idea of God's Command, but as not containing the idea of any relation to
Him at all : he says expressly (G) that the Natural Rule ' suffices to oblige
even those whom one supposes to have no idea of God'
the character of this idea itself':
appears on the surface at least, to hold a doctrine different from that which
At the same time, on the character of this idea itself1 moral goodness,' he
we advocate. It would appear from his language, that he inclines to the
theory, mentioned in a previous note, (see p. 98) which would explain
'moral goodness' as the ' preferring what is preferable ;' or 'preferring the
'plus £tre' to the ' moins 6tre.' ' I am convinced however, as I there im-
plied, that this theory, when put into any definite and intelligible shape,
rvor>/\m£ia i/l^kffc'f i/*ol Tiri^Vi rvni*ci • TMT •fVio'f * m/M*al rrrkrvrlnoca * ia a * aim nil*
becomes identical with ours ; viz. that * moral goodness ' is a ' simple
idea.'
474 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Catholics. Of these, no one enjoys a higher reputa-
tion, than the " Pnelectiones Philosophies " used at S.
Sulpice ; from which I have already, in my notes, made
one or two extracts. Nothing can be clearer or more
convincing, than the statements which we here find : —
ff Thesis Secunda — Discrimen boni et mail a Voluntate Dei,
sive Liber a sive Necessarid, non est repetendum.
" Prob. prima pars, nempe discrimen istud a Liberd Dei
Voluntate repeti non posse. — Yel enim bonum est Deo aliquid
Tit bonum jubenti obtemperare, malum vero illi resistere; vel
non. Si prius: ergo ante Dei Liberum Decretum boni et inali
discrimen instituens, jam bonum et malum existebat ; quod ad-
versariorum hypothesi prorsus opponitur. Si posterius: ergo
bonum et malum etiam nunc nullatenus discriminantur. Posito
enim quod malum non sit decreto divino resistere, malum igitur
non erit agere quod prohibet ut malum; porro quod sine malo
effici potest, malum dici nequit. Ergo, &c.
" Prob. secunda pars, nempe discrimen boni et mali a Voluntate
Dei Necessarid desumi non posse. — Etenim Voluntas Dei
Necessaria nihil efficit, nisi juxta Lumen Idearum Divinarum.
Non potuit igitur Deus boni et mali discrimen statuere per suam
Voluntatem Necessariam, nisi illud discrimen jam in suis ideis
intellexisset. Porro quidquid Deus intelligit, eo ipso realitatem
habet ; alioquin veritate carerent Conceptus Divini. Ergo Actus
Voluntatis Necessarian, quo Deus discrimen boni et mali deter-
minavisse diceretur, hoc discrimen jam existens supponeret. Ergo,"
&c.— N. 1492, pp. 75, 76 of vol. iii.
205. The present professor of Moral Philosophy at
the Roman College, is Solimani ; whose authority is
very highly thought of. No words can be clearer, no
arguments more forcible, than those which he adduces
on this matter : —
"Extare aliquod principium, ex quo in hominem obligatio
descendat, ita facile demonstratur : si nullnm est principium, ex
quo in hominem obligatio derivetur, homoplenam habet libertatem
moralem. Atqui hoc dici nequit. Etenim si homo plena polleret
libertate morali, nullum existeret inter actiones humanas morale
discrimen ; nullus esset moralis ordo in humanis actionibus ex
rationis prsescripto servandus : quamobrem, quidquid homo ageret,
nunquam esset laudandus, nunquam culpandus, nunquam pra3mio,
nunquam posna, dignus censendus. Jam vero id communi homi-
num sensui plane repugnat. Omnes enim inter humanas actiones
morale agnoscunt discrimen; omnes contendunt esse ordinem
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 475
quemdam moralem in iisdcm scrvandum. Nemo est, vel inter
eos qui cupiditatibus indulgere solent, qui non maxime laudet
hominem corpori animum pra3ferentem, pravis aiiimi motibus
fraBiia injicientem, animo excolendo ac perficiendo intendentem,
moclum denique atque ordinem in dictis factisque suis omnibus
perpetuo servantem ; qui non culpet eum, qui contrariam huic
vivendi rationem tenet. Atque hoec quidem laudare aut culpare
homines consueverunt, non modo in aliis, sed etiam in seipsis licet
inviti ; internd saltern ilia natures voce, quam nullus coinpescere
penitus posset.
" Conjice, inquit Genevensis philosophus, conjice oculos in
omnes late populos, versa omnes historias. In tarn ingenti religi-
onum plan& crudelium atque absurdarum multitudine, in tanta
morum atque ingeniorum varietate, easdem ubique justitise atque
honestatis ideas, eadem ubique morum principia, easdem ubique
boni et mali notiones, sine dnbio deprehendes. Vana Ethnicorum
superstitio infandos peperit Deos, qui, scelestorum more, ineritam
apud nos subituri fuissent poenam, quique in exemplum supremse
cujusdam felicitatis non aliud pra3 se ferebant, quam flagitia
omnigena admittenda, pravasque omnes cupiditates explendas.
At vitium, sacra licet instructum auctoritate, ex seternis coeli
sedibus nequaquam ad nos descendebat ; nam instinctus quidam
moralis illud ab humanis pectoribus usque repulsabat. Homines
eo ipso tempore, quo effhenatam Jovis libidinem celebrabant,
prceclaram Xenocratis pudicitiam admirabantur. Sancta naturaB
vox, ipso Deorum exemplo validior, hominum obsequia in terris
sibi vindicabat, culpamque, una cum iis qui ilia inh'ciebantur, in
supernas coeli regiones relegasse quodammodo videbatur. Est
igitur in intimis animi nostri recessibus innata quccdam justitice
ac virtutis norma, ex qua, contra ipsa, quibus imbuti sumus,
pra3Judicia, turn nostras, turn aliorum actiones, rectas vel pravas
esse decernimus.
"Cum igitur inter humanas actiones aliquod agnoscendum
sit morale discrimen, atque homines plena careant libertate
morali, — agnoscendum quoque est aliquod principium, ex quo ad
eos profluit obligatio.
" Hit jusmodi principium, spectato natures ordine, quemlibet Volun"
tatis Dicince prcecipientis actum antecedit. Id vero hac ratione
ostendi posse arbitramur. Principium obligationis non est aliud,
quam norma qucedam, obligandi vi prcedita. At vero admittenda
est hiijusmodi norma, qua quovis Voluntatis Divines prcecipientis
Actu prior sit Etenim qusedam sunt sudpte naturd moraliter
bona; quaBdam vero ita moraliter mala, ut bona fieri nullo modo
possint. Atqui rerum natura quovis Rationis ac Voluntatis Divinas
actu priores sunt. Neque enim res ideb tales sunt, quia Deus
cognoscit ac vult eas tales esse ; sed contra Deus ideo cognoscit ac
476 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
vult res esse tales, quia tales sudpte naturd sunt. Ita circulus
non ideo radios habet inter se sequales, quia Deus cognoscit
ac vult in circulo earn radiorum aequalitatem ; sed contra Deus
ideo cognoscit ac vult illam circuli proprietatem, quia in intimd
circuli naturd necessario ilia Continetur. Hinc est quod Deus
rebus quidem existentiam dare aut recusare pro arbitrio potest ;
intimam autem naturam mutare nequit. Quse igitur, in genere
morum, bona sunt vel mala, sudpte naturd ea talia sunt, ante
quemlibet Rationis ac Voluntatis Divines Actum. Jam vero nihil
est bonum aut malum in genere morum, nisi comparate ad aliquam
normam, quce obligandi virtute sit prcedita. Nam bonum morale
positum est in conformitate cum norma quadam vere obligante,
malum autem morale in discrepantia ab eadem. Normam, inquam,
vere obligantem: siquidem quaacumque alia norma, quantumvis
sapiens atque honesta, bonum malumve morale metiri nequit.
Neque enim ideo bene agimus, quia consilium hominis pruden-
tissimi sequimur ; neque, si non sequimur, idcirco in aliquam
incidimus culpam. Nullum igitur bonum aut malum morale
concipi animo potest, quin simul concipiatur norma obligandi vi
prcedita, ad quam illud necessario refertur. Atqui nos facile
apprehendimus bonum malumque in genere morum suapte natura
tale, ante querncumque Rationis ac Yoluntatis Divinaa Actum.
Ergo admittenda est aliqua norma virtute obligandi instructa, quas
omnem Voluntatis DivincB prcecipientis Actum re ipsd prcecedat.
" Et sane antequam Deus quidquam homini praecipiat, plenum
profecto habet ac perfectum prsecipiendi jus ; hujusmodi enim jus
in ipso Creatoris Providentissimi Attribute intime continetur:
ratio autem Creatoris quocumque prascipiendi Actu natura prior
est. Atqui pleno illi ac perfecto prsecipiendi juri, quo pollet
Deus, plenum a3que ac perfectum obtemperandi officium neces-
sario respondet in homirie. Ha3c enim duo, scilicet jus prseci-
piendi atque obtemperandi officium, inter se cosequantur, atque
ita sunt invicem connexa, ut alter um sine altero intelligi nullo
pacto possit. Igitur non modo illud Dei jus, sed etiam hoc
hominis officium, quocumque Divino Prcecepto naturd prius est. Re-
vera quemadmodum jus illud in Attributo Creatoris, ita officium
hoc in ipsd creaturce conditione, quse quovis Dei Praacepto per se
anterior est, intime continetur. Porro hoc officium, quo omnes
homines ad parendum Deo perfecte obstringuntur, quid qtiaaso
aliud est, quam vera qucedam ac proprie dicta obligatio ? Igitur
ante quodvis Dei Prseceptum, verd concipitur esse obligato, ac
proinde aliqua etiam verce obligationis effectrix norma. Sane si
antequam Deus quidpiam nobis prceciperet, verd nos obligatione, ad
Ejus Prcecepta implenda, minime teneremur, omnem Illi obedientiam
jure optimo recusare possemus ; quemadmodum omnem homini cui-
libet obedientiam abnuere meritb possumus? si} antequam is aliquid
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 477
jubeat, verd nos obligatione adjussa ejus facessenda nequaquam 06-
stringimur.n — Vol. i. pp. 175-178.
206. Dmowski is another Roman writer and one
who enjoys a great name. His remarks on the ques-
tion before us shall here follow : —
" Inter antiques, Epicure! caeterique, de quibus Tullius, omnia
voluptate vel utilitate dimetientes, boni et mali moralis, honesti
et inhonesti, naturale discrimen sustulerunt. Eorum vestigia
premunt plerique recentiores impii ; inter quos Spinosa, et Hob-
besius, (tarn in libro de Give quam in Leviathan,) ab opinionibus
arbitrariis hominum, vel ab arbitraria legum civilium constitu-
tione, hoc discriraen repetii Pufendorfius, quern sequuntur Coc-
cejus et ex parte Heineccius, arbitratur discrimen hoc a liberd
Dei Voluntate et Lege Positivd pendere ; ita ut tanquam invention
scholasticorum respuat differentiam istam moralium actionura,
scilicet, quasdam esse praceptas quia sunt bonce, quasdam ver6
bonas quia prseceptse ; et item, quasdam esse prohibitas quia malce,
quasdam vero malas quia prohibita3. Adversus hos omnes gene-
ratim probabimus, dari intrinsecum discrimen inter bonum et
malum morale ; quasdam morales actiones esse bonas et honestas,
alias malas et turpes, citra omnem reflexionem ad ullam legem
humanam, vel etiam Positivam Divinam a Liberd Dei Voluntate
manantem.
"Ad pleniorem quaestionis intelligentiam advertendum est,
hypothesim istam, in qua statuitur, aliquot actiones esse ita mo-
raliter bonas, aliquas ita malas, ut etiamsi per impossibile Deut
illas non praciperet has non vetaret, adhuc remanerent tales, con-
venientes scilicet vel repugnantes naturali rationi, — esse abstrac-
tionem mentalem, prascindentem a Deo, minime autem exclu-
dentem eum, supponentemque rationalem naturam sicuti est
conformatam. Cum absurdum prorsus videatur, exclusa omni
absoluta ac immutabili realitate et ordine ej usque fundamento,
velle adhuc disputare de convenientia et discrepantia aliquarum
realitatum et ordinis, easque admittere ; praesertim quod nee con-
cipi valeant humani actus ut proprie morales, ante ipsam quoque
rationem spectatam velut naturalem eorum normam.
" Assertio, sic explicata, pluribus evincitur argumentis. Prim6,
ex supposita doctorum distinctione, inter actiones prohibitas quia
malae, et malas quia prohibitae; quse distinctio communi sensu
probatur, cum etiamsi Divinam aut humanam legem cogitatione
removeamus, adhuc unicuique turpe ac malum videri debeat, a ra-
tionis reguld rectoque ordine declinare, honestum ac bonum utrique
suas actiones contbrmare; bonum enim est unicuique enti, juxta
exigentiam suse naturae agere; et in homine omnia ordinantur
I I
478 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
sub ratione, tanquam sub naturali et nobiliori eorum principio dis-
cernente. 2°. Sublato omni intrinseco discrimine inter bonum et
malum morale, tollitur fundamentum legis humanse vel Positives
Divina. Quid enim? Estne ex se bonum iisdem legibus subjici
et malum reluctari, vel neutrum eorum ? Si primum, ergo ante
conceptum harum legum datur aliquid ex se bonum et malum;
si alterum, ergo leges illse, utpote indifferentes, nullam speciem
boni vel mali moralis determinabunt 3°. Plura sunt practica
rationis principia, (e.g. ( Deus est amandus/ f nemo Isedendus,' &c.)
qua ex sui naturd animum ad assensum cogunt, vimque rationali-
tati inferunt; non secus ac ilia theoretica, e.g. ' idem nequit simul
esse et non esse/ totum est majus sud partej &c. Ergo sicut ex
his, ante omnem conventionem et pactionem, qusedam naturaliter
vera dimanant judicia, ita ex illis qusedam actiones naturaliter ac
per se bonce et honesta, iisdemque oppositse malse et inhonestse.
4°. Ut arguit S. Thomas, secundum naturalem ordinem corpus
hominis est propter animam, et inferiores virtutes animae propter
rationem ; est igitur naturaliter rectum, quod sic procuretur ab
homine corpus et inferiores vires animse, ut ex hoc et actus ra-
tionis et bonum ipsius minime impediatur ; si autem secus acci-
deret, erit naturaliter peccatum : vinolentise igitur, comessationes, et
alia inordinata, quse liberum judicium rationis esse non sinunt, sunt
naturaliter mala. Deinde, cum homo naturaliter ordinetur in De.um
sicut in Finem, hinc ea, quse ducunt in cognitionem et amorem
Dei, sunt naturaliter recta ; quse vero e contrario se habent, sunt
naturaliter homini mala. Patet igitur, quod bonum et malum in
humanis actibus non solum sunt secundum legis positionem, sed etiam
secundum naturalem ordinem. 5°. Denique, si omne discrimen
boni moralis a malo penderet a sola Positiv& Divina Voluntate et
lege, potuisset Deus facere ut cuncta quse mine sunt moraliter
bona essent mala, et vicissim : ideoque potuisset efficere ut bonum
esset Ipsum odio habere, proximum Isedere, &c. ; malum vero
Ipsum diligere, proximo benefacere, &c. ; quod evidentissimam
involvit absurditatem, redditque impossibile medium cognoscendi
(excepta divina revelatione), quid Deus revera naturaliter prse-
cepit et quid prohibuit." — Vol. iii. pp. 67, 8, 9.
This passage, at first reading, might appear some-
what in favour of that opinion, which makes God's
Necessary Will the source of all moral obligation. But
a careful study of it will quite destroy this impression.
For instance, in the first italicized passage of the second
paragraph, he declares that certain evil actions would
remain evil, even though ' per impossibile ' God did not
forbid them. In the first italicized passage of the
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 479
third paragraph he adds, that though in thought we
remove from the matter all law whether Divine or
human, it still should appear to every one base and
evil to depart from the rule of Reason and from right
order.
207. I next come to the Lyons course of philosophy.
The following passage seems to shew, that in this work
also, an intrinsic obligation is attributed to morality,
over and above that obligation, which results from
God's Necessary Command of it. The words are as
follows : —
" Obligatio nascitur, turn a Voluntate Divina summ£ Perfecta,
Cui voluntas humana admodum imperfecta et debilis, omnem debet
subjectionem exhibere ; turn a naturd ordinis, qui cum sit intrinsece
bonus utpot£ necessarius entibus, ab omni intelligent!;! debet amari;
turn etiam," &c. — Ethica Generalis, dissert, v. vol. iii.
The Divine Command, you see, is given as part, but
only part, of the source from which moral obligation
springs. Even without reference to this Divine Com-
mand, every intelligence (or intelligent being) ought
to love (or is under the obligation of loving) what is
intrinsecally good.
208. Noget-Lacoudre, like Dmowski, professedly
only opposes the opinion, that the obligation of morality
springs from God's Free Will. But he also, as Dmowski,
in fact extends his statements to God's Necessary Will
also : —
"Discrimen inter bonum et malum morale repetendum non
est a Voluntate Positiv& et Libera Dei tantummodo.
" Probatur. Ilia enim regula moralis rejicienda est, quae 1°.
contradicit notioni quam habemus boni et mali moralis ; 2°. quse
nullam obligationem potest parere : atqui tails est regula, quae dis-
crimen inter bonum et malum morale repetit ex Voluntate Positiva
et Libera Dei tantum ; nullo autem modo ex essentid reruns
" 1°. quidem regula ha3c contradicit notioni quam habemus
boni et mali moralis. Quisque enim existimat plurimos actus, quos
agnoscunt tanquam bonos et malos moraliter, tales esse ex essentid
rerum ; eorumdem actuum bonitatem aut malitiam ab omni volun-
tate liberd esse independentem ideoque immutabilem. Sic existi-
mant quicumque recto animi sensui vim non mferunt, bonum esse
suum cuique tribuere ; animum beneficiorum memorem servare ;
&c. ; nee unquam hos actus malos fieri posse. Erg6, &c.
480 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
" 2°. Regula haec nullam obligationem parere potest. Si enim
tollitur discrimen ex essentia rerum profluens, tune Deo jubenti
parere non teneor quia bona est res quam ille imperat ; sed tan-
tummodo quia Deus vult : atqui sola Voluntas Dei non potest
parere obligationem. Nulla enim adesse potest obligatio, quin adsit
officium implendum : atqui tune nullum adest officium implendum:
omne enim officium implicat ideam actus boni, seu rectae rationi
consentanei ; non verb solummodb imperium voluntatis, guantumvis
potentis. Si enim non adest nisi imperium voluntatis summe
potentis, nulla vero notio recti; — sane prudentice non erit non
parere jubenti ; securitatique et utilitati SUCK non sapienter consulet,
qui imperium voluntatis istius summi potentis detrectabit : at si
imprudently reus ille merito dicitur, nunquam tamen recti et aqui
violator erit. Nullum jus sola violentia parere potest. Ergo,
&c."— Vol. iii. p. 112, 113. Thesis 6.
One sentence in this passage is very remarkable and
important : ' Sola Voluntas Dei non potest parere obli-
gationem/ To unfold more fully its meaning, take this
conclusion : ' I am bound to obey the Pope in spirituals,
because God commands it.' The premisses stated in
full are as follows : —
Major. I am bound to obey whatever God com-
mands.
Minor. God commands me to obey the Pope.
Conclusion. I am bound to obey the Pope.
The major premiss is very far from a merely analyti-
cal proposition. (See n. 23, p. 52.) It is a synthetical
proposition, and a most important one ; intued however
with extreme clearness, so soon as the idea of a Holy
Creator is unfolded before my mind. Now it is plain,
that the minor premiss, by itself, would not suffice to
establish the conclusion ; or, in other words, no obli-
gation could result from the mere fact of God giving
me a Command, unless my reason at once supplied the
major premiss as above expressed.
What I am here however concerned to point out, is
that this statement of Lacoudre applies to God's Neces-
sary Will, no less than to His Free Will.
That Lacoudre indeed does not attribute the origin
of moral obligation to God's Will in any sense, is
equally clear from the title which he gives to his next
thesis : * Discrimen inter bonum et malum morale
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 481
repetendum est ex essentid rerum* Not from God's
Will, you see, but from the essence of things.
209. But no writer of the present day has entered
more fully upon the subject than F. Chastel, S.J. His
statements and arguments are as follow : —
" Le bien et le mal sont fondes sur la nature, sur Fessence
immuable des choses ; et Dieu, loin de decider arbitraireraent le
bien et le mal, est au contraire ntcessitd par Sa Perfection m£me a
ddfendre Fun et a vouloir Fautre. Par consequent, il n'est pas
besoin d'une revelation, pour connaitre la Volonte' de Dieu sur ce
point ; ni pour savoir ce qui est bien et ce qui est mal en virtu de
la Loi Naturelle. Cette loi primordiale, gravee dans le coeur de
chacun de nous, est promulguee par la voix de la raison et de la
conscience. Tel a 6te dans tous les temps 1'enseignement Chretien.
Saint Paul (Rom. ii.) affirme que les pai'ens eux-memes portent
cette loi ecrite dans le coeur, et qu'un tribunal irrecusable est
e"leve dans leur conscience. f Comment done les Gentils,' demande
Saint Jean Chrysostome, ( peuvent-ils dire ; Nous n'avons point de
loi posee par elle-meme dans la conscience, et Dieu ne Fa pas
gravee dans notre coeur ? C'est de cette loi que les premiers hommes
ont tir^ leurs lois, qu'ils ont invente les arts et les autres choses.'
(Homil. ad Pop. Antioch. 12, c. 4.) 'Cette loi,' dit Saint Ambrose,
* ne nous est point enseignee du dehors, elle est nee en nous-memes;
nous ne la tirons point des livres ; chacun de nous la puise dans la
source feconde de la nature.' — Apud Suarez, ibid. c. 5.
" Dans la Loi Naturelle, telle que la manifestent la conscience
et la raison, il faut distinguer deux choses : 1°. le caractere du
bien et mal, c'est-^-dire, ce qui est conforme ou contraire a la
nature des etres et a leurs rapports essentiels ; 2°. FIntervention
ndcessaire du Maitre de la nature, Qui veut le bien et defend le maL
D'abord I' exigence de la nature, ensuite le Prdcepte Divin ; deux
choses distinctes, dont Vune est logiquement ante'rieure a Fautre.
Pour que Dieu ordonne ou defende, il faut concevoir quelque
chose k ordonner et a defendre. Le bien n'est pas tel parce qu'il
plait a Dieu, mais il plait a Dieu parce qu'il est bien ; de memo le
mal n'est defendu de Dieu, que parce qu'il est mal.
"A part le Pre'cepte Divin, il y a done toujours bien et mal
essentiels, il y a ^exigence de la nature. Or on demande si,
abstraction faite de Dieu et de Sa Volontd, la seule exigence de la
nature suffit pour creer un devoir, pour constituer une obligation
morale : en d'autres termes, s'il y a une loi morale inddpendamment
de toute Loi Divine ; ou encore jusqu'a quel point la morale est
ind^pendante de la religion. Cette question delicate a e*te* trop
souvent et trop vivement souleve*e, pmir n'avoir pas besoin d'une
solution complete.
482 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
" Avouons d'abord, que ce qui fait la principale force de la
Loi Naturelle, est sans contredit ^Intervention de Dieu. La
Majeste de la Volonte Divine s'imposant a la conscience, et
montrant a Phomme une sanction inevitable et clairement deter-
minee, agira toujours bien plus fortement sur nous, que la simple
consideration de la nature. Neanmoins il faut voir si cette seule
consideration de la nature n'impose point par elle-meme une
obligation quelconque.
" Yoici la reponse de Suarez Anterieurement a la
Prescription et a la Volonte Divine, il y a lien etmal moral; il y a
done obligation morale, non aussi forte mais reelle, de faire ce qui
est bien et d'eviter ce qui est mal. Cela est si vrai, que cette loi
est la raison meme de notre soumission a la Volonte' Divine. Car
enfin, si Dieu ordonne ou defende, il faut qu'il y ait en nous une
raison anterieure d 'accepter Sa Volontd et de la suivre.
" On demandera, quelle est la force de cette obligation et quelle
est sa sanction? La raison nous dit, que tout etre, ou du moins
tout etre raisonnable, doit agir conformement a sa nature et aux
rapports essentiels qui le lient aux autres etres ; sous peine, en
allant contre sa nature, de marcher a la contradiction, au desordre,
a la destruction ; voila la loi. Or qui va a la destruction et a la
soufFrance, doit la trouver : voila la sanction.*
"Maintenant, cette obligation morale, simple resultat de la
nature des etres, F appellerez-vous une loi, ou lui refuserez-vous
ce nom, sons prdtexte que toute loi dmane d^un supdrieur? Pen
importe. Suarez vous dira qu'elle n'est pas une loi proprement
dite ; bien que d' autres thdologiens lui donnent ce nom, en distinguant
deux especes de loi, celle qui indique, qui determine le devoir,
et celle qui I' impose comme expression d'une volontd supe'rieure.
(Suarez, ibid. n. 3.) Mais cette dispute de mots n'empeche pas
qu'il y ait toujours obligation morale, devoir reel, quand on ferait
abstraction de Dieu et de la religion. Cette verite n'a point
echappe au puissant genie de Leibnitz. ' II est tres-vrai/ dit-il,
* " Quelques lecteurs bienveillants ont paru craindre que nous ne soyons
tombe ici dans 1'erreur du Peche Philosophique : nous devons les rassurer.
La doctrine condamnee du Pech6 Philosophique consistait a dire, que Ton
pouvait pecher contre la nature et contre la raison, sans offenser Dieu en
meme temps et sans violer son commandement (voir la 2e prop, condamnee
par Alex. VIII., Aout, 1690). Or, nous ne disons et ne pensons rien de
semblable. L'obligation fondee sur la nature ou la raison, et celle que fonde
la Loi Divine, sont deux obligations distinctes ; elles ne sont pas separees.
" D'autres auraient pr6fere du moins que nous eussions evite cette diffi-
cile question, qui n'etait pas necessaire a notre these. Ces personnes n'ont
pas lu, sans doute, tout ce que les rationalistes et les traditionalistes ont
ecrit depuis vingt ans sur les rapports de la morale et de la religion, et les
excbs deplorables ou Von Jest porte des deux cotes. Or, notre these etait
de resoudre le plus completement possible cette importante question, et de
montrer la verite entre ces erreurs opposees" (Author's note.)
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 483
( que Dicu est par sa Nature supdrieur de tous les homines. Ce-
pendant, cette pensee, que tout droit nait de la Volonte d'un
Supcrieur, ne laisse pas de clwquer et d'etre/mute, queltjue adouciss*-
ment qrfon apporte pour Pexcuser. Car Grotius a judicieusement
remarqud, qu'il y aurait quelque obligation naturelle, (juand imine
on accorderaity ce qui ne so peut, qiiil n'y a point de Divinitd ;
ou en faisant abstraction pour un moment de son existence.'—
Penstes^ t. xi. p. 306.
" Dieu, a t'on dit, est la source de la morale ; done elle repose
sur lui. Oui, Dieu est la Source de tous les etres, de toutes les
verites, des vdritds morales comme des vtritls matJie'matujues ; cepen-
dant, ne peut-on prouver les verites mathematiques, sans recourir
au dogme de 1'Existence de Dieu?" — Pp. 40-45.
210. The quotations which I have now brought to-
gether, are most abundantly sufficient, as every one
must admit, for the purpose for which I have made
them. They are most abundantly sufficient to shew,
that any Catholic has the fullest liberty of denying that
all moral obligation springs from God's Command, if
such denial appears to him borne out by reason and
argument.
We are next to enquire, how far we are in accord-
ance with Catholic authorities, in saying that the
idea of moral goodness does not contain that of any
relation to God ; not merely that it does not contain
the idea of God's Command, but not of any relation to
Him. Let us consider, in this point of view, the various
extracts which we have made from theologians and
philosophers.
And first for theologians. There can be no pos-
sible doubt on the doctrine of Lessius, Bellarmine, Lugo,
and the two theologians whom Lugo quotes ; viz.
Gabriel and Gregory of Ariminum. (See n. 190-194,
p. 443, 4.) These all agree in stating, that even if
God did not exist, there might be real sin. And Lessius
explains how sin would exist ; viz. i quatenus actus
aliqui fiunt libere contra regulam rectee Rationis.' It
is absolutely undeniable, then, that these theologians
regard the idea of ' moral evil,' as not containing the
idea of any relation to God whatever.
The same assertion is equally certain, in regard to
484 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
Salas, Azor, Vega, and the ' plures ex antiquioribus et
recentioribus ' whom Lugo cites. All these theologians
hold as a matter of course, that men might really and
formally sin, even though they were invincibly ignorant
of God's Existence; they only differ from each other
on the question, whether such sin could be mortal.
But if men are able to sin without knowledge of God,
it is plain that the idea of sin does not in itself include
the idea of God. All these theologians, therefore, hold
the doctrine which I follow ; viz. that the idea of moral
evil does not include that of any relation to Almighty
God.
I should add indeed, to prevent misconception, that
all these theologians make a much greater severance
between God and Moral Truth, than I can think legiti-
mate and true. The first of the two classes hold that
there might be moral evil, even though (per impossi-
bile) God did not exist : whereas to me it seems, that if
(per inipossibile) there were no Necessary Being, neither
would there be any necessary Truth ; Mathematical,
Moral, nor any other. The second of the two classes
hold that there might be a real knowledge of moral
evil, even if God were invincibly and totally unknown :
whereas to me it seems, that the knowledge of any truth
as necessary, is a real knowledge, so far as it goes, (how-
ever dim and imperfect) of the One Necessary Being.
(Seen. 34, p. 75.)
It is absolutely certain however, that all these authors
consider the idea ' morally evil ' to be totally inde-
pendent of the idea ' God.' Any other Catholic then
has the fullest liberty of holding the same, if such ap-
pear to him the dictate of Reason. There is no need
consequently in strictness to proceed further : yet a
very few words will suffice to shew, that the other
theologians also, whom I have cited in this Section, un-
doubtedly go to the same extent.
It will have been observed, that they all (when
denying that moral evil is exclusively based on God's
Prohibition,) use such expressions as the following.
They say that those acts, which are forbidden by the
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 485
Natural Law, are also evil 4ex natura sua;' 'ex se ;'
' secundum se ; ' c propter disconvenientiam cum rectA
Ratione ;' and use other phrases to the same effect. It
is plain then, that they are not contrasting God's Pro-
hibition on the one hand, with some other relation to
God on the other hand : no ; they are contrasting that
evil which is occasioned by God's Intervention on the
one hand, with that evil which is intrinsic to the very
nature of the act on the other hand. They are saying,
that not all the moral evil of such acts comes through
God's extrinsic Intervention ; but that there is true
moral evil intrinsic to the very acts themselves.
This is surely conclusive. Yet it so happens, that we
can confirm our statement by other extracts, in the case
of each single theologian in the number. Thus Suarez
in a different treatise (the *de Peccatis') treats very
briefly the question, c whether sin can exist, where there
is invincible ignorance of God.' He will not decide
whether such ignorance is possible; but, supposing it,
he says that there might nevertheless be real sin and real
defection from our True End. This is the passage :—
"Actus peccati ex deformitate ad rectam Rationem proprie
dicitur actus malus ; peccatum ver6 dicitur, ex carenti& rectitudinis
ad Ultimum Finem. ....
" Sed contra. f Nam si'quis cognosceret actuin aliquem esse
( contra rectam Rationem, ut tamen invincibiliter ignoi aret Deum,
' ille peccaret contra rectam Rationem, et tamen niliil inordinatum
f ageret contra Ultimum Finem/ "
He supposes then an opponent to object against
him as follows. ' You will not deny that there may be
4 real sin in a man invincibly ignorant of God. Yet in
4 his case you cannot allege that there is any thing in-
'ordinatum contra Ultimum Finem; because to him
cthe Ultimus Finis is invincibly unknown.' Does
Suarez then reply, that there can not be real sin in
one invincibly ignorant of God ? This would be by
far the easiest mode of freeing himself from the diffi-
culty, if he would adopt it consistently with his principles.
But his answer is most different.
"Respondeo: quidquid sit an talis ignorantia sit possibilis,
486 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
tamen ilia posita, actus mains etiam careret illo ordine quern
habere debet ad Ultimum Finem. Et hoc non pendet ex
cognitione vel voluntate operantis ; quia intrinsece et essentialiter
convenit hoc actui malo ut malus est : sicut e contra actus virtutis,
ratione suse honestatis, habet rectitudinem debitam ad Ultimum
Finem ; licet ab operante non referatur vel etiam non cognos-
catur.;' — De Peccatis, disp. sec. 1, nn. 7, 8.
You see, in this last sentence again he implies, that
a man may act ' propter bonum honestum,' who is
ignorant of God the Ultimus Finis. Hence, in Suarez's
judgment, a man may know 'bonum honestum/ who
does not know God ; and hence again the idea * bonum
honestum ' does not include the idea ' God.7
Vasquez again says expressly,
e Integra ratio culpse et peccati moralis in oppositione cum
virtute et natura rationali recte intelligitur.' — In lm 2se, disp.
96, n. 6.
Father Compton Carleton: —
ff In hoc omnes [theologi] conspirant, peccatum scilicet aliquod
(furtum e. g. vel homicidium) cum invincibili Dei ignorantid, non
contracturum specialem malitiam injurise contra Deum, ingratitu-
dinis, inobedientise, . . .
" Conveniunt insuper omnes, peccatum quodvis, hoc modo com-
missum, Deo displicere .... Prseterea cum peccatum illud sit
malum, meretur a Deo . . . puniri."
Carleton regards all theologians as agreeing, that
there could be real sin, though there were invincible
ignorance of God ; and he proceeds to represent them
as differing from each other only on the question,
whether such sin would be mortal.
Berti, in like manner, though denying most earnestly
that there can be invincible ignorance of God, yet holds
that if there were such ignorance, there might never-
theless be real sin.
<f Data invincibili Dei ignoratione, . . admitteretur Peccatum
Philosophicum. Posset enim ignorans Deum adversus rectam
rationem delinquere" — 1. 21, c. 9. n. 13.
In the following number he further states, that such
sin would be displeasing to God, and would be justly
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 487
punished by Him ; though he maintains that it could
not properly be called an offence against Him.
Lastly, Frassen shews no less clearly his real opinion,
than do the other theologians whom I have cited. He
is adducing arguments which prove God's Existence ;
and, among others, he urges, that if (per impossibile)
God did not exist, there would be no sure punishment
for sin, nor any sure reward of virtue. It is plain, of
course, that if the idea of moral good and evil depended
on the idea of God, the hypothesis of God's non-existence
would imply the non-existence of moral good or evil :
we see therefore, how very far removed is Frassen
from any such opinion. These are his words: —
" Ex negatione Supremi Numinis, virtutis pcreat praemium,
. . . et ad exercenda quseque vitia improbis laxentur habense.
. . . Ex ea doctrina quse negat Deum esse, sequitur nullum esse
omnium criminum Ultorem . . Adde quod si nullus Deus existeret,
nullum pariter foret premium virtutis.'' — Tract 1, disp. 1, n. 1,
q. 4, concl. 3.
It is quite certain then, that all those theologians
whom we cited in the earlier part of the Section, are
equally available for our present purpose. We cited
them originally as testifying, that the idea ' morally
evil ' by no means implies God's Prohibition ; but they
all go further than this, as we now find: they deny
that the idea c morally evil ' contains the idea of any
relation towards God.
I say, all those ' theologians ; ' for I have not been
able to find any passage from S. Ignatius' c Spiritual
Exercises,' bearing on our later subject. Nor indeed
is this at all wonderful. Rather, on the other hand, it is
somewhat remarkable, that in a work, which does not
profess to be either philosophical or theological, there
should be an incidental statement so much to our point,
as the one which we were able to quote on our earlier
controversy: see n. 187, p. 432. It should be added
also, that the remark made at the beginning of this
number, is eminently applicable to the passage which
we quoted from the * Exercises.' There is no kind of
hint that the 4 foeditas et nequitia,' which is independent
488 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
of God's Prohibition, contains the idea of some other
relation to Him ; but, on the contrary, evil acts are said
to possess it, c ex naturd sud.' And Father Roothaan
interprets the Saint as signifying by his phrase, 'ration!
natural! contraria.'
211. The same general remark applies to the cita-
tions from Catholic philosophers, which we have brought
together in this Section. Evil actions, says Dmowski,
do not derive their whole malitia from God's Pro-
hibition ; they are ' naturaliter homini mala :' good
actions are ' naturaliter ac per se bonse et honestse :'
the good and evil in human acts is 'non solum secundum
legis positionem sed etiam secundum naturalem ordi-
nem.' Noget-Lacoudre, in like manner, says that many
good and bad acts ' tales esse ex essentid rerum.' And
Father Chastel, that c le bien et le mal sont fondes sur
V essence immuable des choses.' These writers state, as
we have seen, that the attribute 'morally evil' is by
no means synonymous with the attribute ' prohibited
by God.' But in saying this, they are not contrasting
' prohibited by God' with some other relation to God :
as e.g. 'detested by God;' ' intued as evil by God;'
'separating from God;' or the like. Their language
shews that this is not at all their meaning. Their
meaning is, that the term ' morally evil ' does not in
itself imply any relation to God ; but that in many cases
it expresses an attribute, which appertains to acts ' ex
naturd sua"1 and ^secundum ordinem naturce.'
Two or three of them speak so plainly, as to render
misconception impossible. Thus Gerdil, as we have
seen, holds that there may be a real knowledge of
moral obligation, in those whom we may suppose to
have no knowledge of God at all. He cannot therefore
regard the term ' moral obligation ' as expressing any
relation to God ; since he considers that men may know
it, who have no idea of God.
The ' Praelectiones Philosophic^ ' contain the fol-
lowing excellent remarks on this matter :—
'Nonnullij qui nobiscum sentiunt circa fundamentum obliga-
CATHOLIC AUTHORITY ON INDEPENDENT MORALITY. 489
tionis moralis, exinde concludunt hanc obligationem eandem,
remanere, etiam in hypothec impossibili quod Deus non essei. . . .
( Si autem obligationem moralem in se spectemus, hanc anni-
hilari, si per impossible Deus non existeret, tenendum est, In
Essentid enim Divind . . . continentur relationes essentiales neces-
saria rerum ; ideoque ab Ea pendet discrimen inter bonum et
malum morale. Si igitur Deus per impossibile existere cessaret,
eo ipso nil bonum aut malum, quemadmodum nil verum autfalsumt
jam dici deberet.' (n. 1557.)
It is impossible to express more clearly the very
doctrine which I follow, and which I have expressed
in n. 34. The following passage from Solimam seems
also to contain the same doctrine ; though I admit that
it is not quite so clearly expressed :—
* Prim a fronte non satis apparet, qua ratione Natura Divina
sit norma humanarum actionum. Id ut clare percipiatur, adver-
tendum est, in Natura Divina intelligente existere ideas arche-
typas eorum omnium, quse sunt vel esse possunt Porro quem-
admodum ipsae res, ita quoque rerum idea?, varias habent inter se
relationes, qua? eas invicem nectunt, atque immensum quendam
ordinem constituunt Hujusmodi ordo unus revera in re est et sim-
plex: nihilominusdividi cogitando potest,in duos peculiares ordines,
quorum alter spectat intimas rerum naturas, et s metaphysicus '
appellatur; alter spectat liberas naturarum intelligentium actiones,
et appellatur ' moralis ' . . . . Porro qua?vis natura intelligens,
quum libere agit, nulli suce relationi adversari debet. Ex his patet,
ordinem moralem necessario profluere k metaphysico. Quare
immutabilis et ceternus est seque ac metaphysicus. Et sane uterque
in Immutdbili atque ^Etemd Dei Natura consistit, atque ab Eadem
reipsa non differt. Jam vero Natura Divina eatenus est norma
humanarum actionum, quatenus continet ac exhibet ordinem
moralem:''— Vol. i. p. 182.
212. I have not in this Section entered at all upon a
direct theological consideration of those philosophical
conclusions, which have been established (I hope) in
the three first Sections. Such consideration entirely
appertains to the Second Book ; and in the course
of that Book I hope to shew, that Theology presents
us with strong additional reasons of its own for adopting
many of those conclusions. But in this Section my
purpose has been entirely negative. The state of the
case is this.
490 PHILOSOPHICAL INTRODUCTION.
I have advocated strongly, as a philosophical con-
clusion, that moral obligation exists quite independently
of the Divine Command. Many Catholics however, as
I find, are strongly prepossessed against this conclusion,
and are unwilling to consider fairly the arguments
urged in its support, from their impression that theo-
logians, as a body, are opposed to it. I have therefore
thought it very important, even in the present Book, to
shew, how vast a body of theologians are here in
accordance.
Again, I have advocated, as a philosophical con-
clusion, not only that the term ' morally evil ' does not
signify ''prohibited by God/ but that it does not express
any relation to God whatever. And, though I have not
heard the objection made, many Catholics may possibly
think that this view at all events is opposed to theo-
logical authority. Since therefore a very few additional
words enabled me to remove any such other impression
also, I thought it better to add those few words.
This is all that I have attempted in the present
Section: and every reader, I think, will be ready to
admit, that so much as this has been satisfactorily
accomplished.
CORRIGENDA (see Preface).
P. 113. In the volume, as it originally stood, the investigation*
of the earlier Sections were far more confined to the question of strict
obligation; and did not extend to Moral Truth in general, as they
now do. This will explain the language of the first paragraph.
P. 117. The reference to n. 24 should now be to n. 48*, p. 112;
and that to n. 30 should be to n. 19, p. 43.
P. 122. The reference to n. 17 should now be to n. 29, p.
64-67.
P. 142. The reference in the first note should not be to the
Appendix, which has now indeed been incorporated ; but to n. 34,
p. 74, 5.
P. 151. The reference to n. 25 should now be to n. 49*, p. 107*.
P. 153. The reference to n. 21, and (in the note) to the Appendix,
should now be to n. 34, p. 74, 5.
P. 159. The reference ton. 9 should now be to n. 13, p. 34 ; and
that to n. 10 should now be to n. 14, p. 36.
P. 162, line 2. I was mistaken in thinking, that Suarez regards
these truths as immediate ' dictamiiia rationis;' I think that he holds
them to be inferences. Still, of course, he does consider that there
are certain immediate 'dictamina rationis* on morality, from which
the rest are deducible.
P. 163. The reference to n. 27 should now be to n. 186, p. 431.
P. 169. The reference to n. 25 should now be to n. 49*, p. 107*.
P. 190. The first paragraph of n. 87 should now be omitted.
P. 424. What are here spoken of as 'judgments of experience,' I
have now called * judgments of consciousness !'
P. 425. The reference to n. 6 should now be to n. 9, p. 18.
„ The reference to n. 13 should now be to n. 18, p. 42.
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